by C. K. Rieke
The snakes, that had already begun to slither away, evaporated into a fading green smoke, and they were gone. Lilaci had the dead Reevin atop her, but past the dagger before her, she could see the relief in the eyes of her friends as they lay motionless. The man in thin, tan linens pulled his scimitar from the dead Reevin behind and wiped the blood from his blade on the wizard’s robes.
He took a broad step over Burr, and went over to Fewn, kneeling to inspect her. Another figure emerged from over Roren, a woman of light tan complexion with dirty blonde hair that draped over her shoulders, long tattoos flowing down both her arms.
The man then turned and spoke in a low voice to the woman next to him, his dark green eyes shone like emeralds. His face instantly shifted to one of concern for her as his head dropped close to his shoulder, eying Lilaci with the look of a man who hadn’t seen a friend in ages but gained a faint recognition. He seemed to have a whirlwind of thoughts roaring through his head then, Lilaci wanted nothing more than to yell out to him, and ask for help with her immobility, but she couldn’t. She felt only an overwhelming sensation of warmth to simply give into the claws of deep sleep that were reaching out for her.
It's you. After all these years, you came for me. I thought you were dead, but you’re here, when I needed you. Another blessing, another sign there is something out there in these lands that wants to give us . . .
The blackness came over her again. A dreamless sleep. A dark, lifeless, sleep.
The bright, blinding light appeared. It was as bright as the warm, afternoon sun, but not like she pictured the aura of the Great Realm in the Sky to be. Her limbs were numb, her head foggy, and a sharp pain shot through her mind as the bright light sliced through her. Am I dead?
A shadow drifted through the light, cutting it in half. A dark, cooling shade that broke through the heat of the light. “Am I . . .” she said, her voice raspy and cracked with a dry mouth that clicked slightly, “dead?”
“No, Lilaci,” a man’s voice said. “No, you are not, and thank the gods for that.”
The memory of Dânoz shot back to her, and Kera out on the sands without her. Her eyes shot open, even in the blinding light, and the figure of a man appeared before her. He was bathed in shadow with the sun glowing behind him. Thank the gods? You are on the side of them? She ran her hand to her back, wrapping her fingers around the dagger that lay there, and pulled it forward. Before she could bring it up to hold it to the man’s throat, she felt strong fingers wrap around her wrist.
“Lilaci, stop,” she heard a familiar woman’s voice say. It was Fewn’s. “He saved us. Don’t you remember?”
Remember? I—I remember, the Reevins. They had us, they had us poisoned, and then . . . He came . . .
“Hi, Lilaci,” the man’s voice said. “It’s been a long, long time.”
“Go—” she rasped, “Gogenanth?”
He released her wrist, she caught the glow of his emerald eyes before her. A warm smile crossed his face. Then the tears came, as Lilaci felt all the pain and suffering since he’d been taken from her return. All the years she spent with Veranor, in his forced service, under the spell the mages placed on her. And the long nights she’d spent with him under the moon and stars returned.
“I came back,” he said, his voice quivered. “I didn’t think I’d find you alive.”
“You came?” she said. “You came back? I thought you were dead.”
He leaned down and wrapped his arms around her, and she rose up into his as they embraced each other tightly. “I came back. I’ve been gone too long. I’m sorry. I thought you were dead.”
“They told me you’d died,” she said. “How is this happening? And . . . And we were poisoned.”
“Yes,” she heard Roren say off to the side, “we think the venom faded after the Reevins died.”
“I-I just don’t believe it,” she said. “Gogenanth. You’ve come back. How did you know where to find me? How did you know we needed help?”
“Again,” he said. “Bless the gods for this, we only happened upon your attack. And when I say bless the gods, I mean, bless my gods, not yours.”
“Your gods?” Lilaci said.
“Yes, Lilaci, I’ve come a long way to make it back here, back to the Arr.”
“Back to the Arr?” she asked, her voice shaking.
“Yes, I’ve had quite the journey since we’ve been apart,” he said.
Lilaci sat there silent for a moment, looking up at the older face of the boy she’d known all those years ago. The same boy who lost his family when she did. She tried to let the things rolling around inside of her reconnect. “What did you mean by, we happened upon your attack?”
Another person walked over to Lilaci, and Gogenanth leaned back to let Lilaci look up at her. She laid out her hand for Lilaci to take “Lilaci,” she said, long tattoos on her arms and the back of her hand. “It’s nice to meet you finally, I’ve heard so much about you. The names Ezmerelda, let's get you some water. You and he have gotta lot to catch up on. And I sure could use some more of that wine you all are lugging, these deserts sure are a bitch to walk.”
Lilaci sat up and Ezmerelda pulled her to her feet, her legs were still weak and wobbly. “Ezmerelda, thank you, thank you for helping us.”
Fewn, Roren. and Burr all seemed weak too, but Fewn nodded to her, a signal that they’d made it through another battle together.
Ezmerelda grabbed Lilaci by the arm to help her toward the wagon, but Lilaci removed herself from her grasp. “I’m OK, I can walk.” Her head still foggy, but slowly clearing, she went over and took an eager drink from her watersack. She turned to look back at Gogenanth. “Is this a dream? It seems real, but I’m finding it difficult to find the difference recently.”
“It’s real,” Roren said.
She went over and wrapped her arms around Gogenanth, and he returned her embrace. “I’ve had a hard life since you’ve been away,” she said. “He took me after you left, he told me you were dead. Then I found Kera, but she’s gone now. The gods don’t want us to be together, they want to kill her. Gogenanth—” she looked up into his eyes. “Where have you been all these years? Why didn’t you come sooner?”
“I would’ve come,” he said, his voice somber. “I—honestly, Lilaci—I wasn’t even intending to find you.”
“What?” she asked, brushing her hair back behind her ear. “You weren’t looking for me? I don’t understand.”
“Like I said, I thought you were dead. I came for him.”
“Him? What are you talking about?” she asked while taking a slow step back.
He released her from his embrace and looked deep into her eyes. “I came for the commander. I came to kill Veranor for what he did to me. For what he did to us. It was only by pure chance we’ve been reunited. Ezmerelda and I were traveling through the night and saw the wizards as they slunk through the shadows to attack you all. We were only saving who we thought was an innocent party. I came to avenge you and kill him.”
“Ha.” Burr laughed loudly. “This is a turn of events. I like you!”
Gogenanth flashed a confused grin toward Burr.
“Go ahead,” Fewn said. “Tell him, Lilaci.”
“Tell me what?” Gogenanth asked, his eyebrow lifted.
“Well, things have grown . . . complicated over the last couple of weeks,” Lilaci said.
“Complicated?” he asked, his raised eyebrows quickly turned to a frown. “What do you mean complicated?”
“Complicated as in—” Fewn said, “—as in Veranor is on our side now.”
“We don’t know that,” Lilaci said.
“Veranor is…” Gogenanth said in disbelief, “he is, wait, what are you saying?”
Lilaci sighed. “Listen, Gogenanth, Veranor is a son of a bitch, and he’s done things that are unforgivable, but—”
“He tore us apart!” Gogenanth said, balling his fists and shaking them. “He took you from me, we’ve lost years of our lives to his torture. What a
re you saying? You’re saying you’ve teamed together?”
“He’s got Kera!” Lilaci said. “And until she’s safe with me again, Veranor has to live. He’s the only one standing between the gods and her. We’ve got to find her again.”
“How’s Kera?” Ezmerelda asked.
Fewn walked over and put her hand on Ezmerelda’s shoulder. “Girl, you’ve got a lot to catch up on.”
“What about you, Gogenanth?” Roren asked. “Where have you been all these years? Why come back now?”
“That, Roren,” he said. “Is a story I don’t wish to tell. But I’ve traveled from Essill, over the Elden Sea. I came to kill Veranor, because I thought Lilaci was killed. Now, I have no idea why I’m here.”
Part IV
Where Sunlight Fades
Chapter Twenty
Heavy was the desert air the night of Gogenanth’s return. It hung all around them like a thick, veiled tapestry. A delight resounded from another victory against the Reevins, albeit their narrowest escape yet, and all respect was due to the man who’d entered their lives in the middle of the night with a strange woman from another part of the Arr. They’d come from the land of Essill.
Even with the exhilaration of having much needed new allies in the war, and their journey to find Kera on the other side of the seemingly impassable canyon, not all was celebratory.
“You’ve let him take the one you swore to protect?” Ezmerelda asked Lilaci.
“She didn’t let him take her,” Fewn said. “But he did take her nonetheless. Remember, Kera told us to trust Veranor. That’s why he was allowed to walk with us. She was always right . . . I guess she was almost always right.”
“Had it been up to me,” Burr said, “his blood would have stained the sands that first night. Even if he did help us kill that poisonous snake the Witch Queen.”
There was a nervous stirring from Gogenanth who stood with his elbow resting on the side of the wagon in the early morning sun, casting a long shadow to his side. “The . . . the Witch Queen is dead?” he asked, his voice was firm but held an unfamiliar tone of disbelief. “The goddess Gorlen has perished? How is that possible? I believed the gods to be immortal.”
“Yeah,” Ezmerelda said. “How’s that work? In our world the gods can’t die, at least we are told they can’t. Even our gods know they can’t.”
“Your gods? They are different where you come from?” Roren asked with his brow furrowed.
“Yes. There’s a long story in that,” Gogenanth said, “another tale of Essill that merits telling once we’ve made a way forth in these lands.”
“It’s worth telling that our gods are good,” Ezmerelda said. “Ever since the war ended. So I take it by the words ‘poisonous snake’ Gorlen wasn’t good?”
“No,” Lilaci said. “No, she was not. I’m sure Gogenanth remembers tales of her.”
He nodded with his brow furrowed. “It is bewildering to me that she’s is gone . . . forever . . . How did that come about?”
“Kera,” Lilaci said. Who would’ve thought a girl as young as her would end the reign of one of the most infamous of the gods?
“Sounds like we need to get her back then,” Ezmerelda said. “Quite a magic she’s got to do that.”
“Speaking of magic,” Roren said. “You haven’t told us yet how you did what you did in the night to kill those sorcerers. I’ve never seen magic like that. You appeared out of nowhere. That blue magic you carry is powerful, that could really come in handy if you walk with us stranger.”
“He’s so stranger to me,” Lilaci said. Is this still part of my dream? How is this possible? He should be dead, he was dead. And we should have been killed out there under the magic of the Reevins. Gogenanth, you saved us. You saved me. You came in my greatest time of need. I owe you. And how I’ve missed you.
“The magic I wield is of the gods in Essill,” Gogenanth said. “It’s a rare gift from Ojiin himself, our Great God, it’s the magic of the Azulūz.”
“Yeah, but many used to have it,” Ezmerelda said. “They were hunted down . . . and we lost friends, but Zaan . . . never mind, that’s a long tale, but now Gogenanth is the only one with the Azulūz. It was given back to him so we could come to the Arr, so we could kill Veranor but wow, don’t really know what to do now. Wait, what do you want us to do? Help you find this girl, and . . . help him? Help Veranor?”
Gogenanth and Ezmerelda both looked at Lilaci for an answer, then Lilaci noticed they were all looking at her for an answer to that question. I don’t know what to tell them. On the one hand, what better feeling would there be to kill the one who ripped us from our families, and then each other? And we could kill him together. But—if he were still, and only if—he was still working with us to help her, I don’t know what I’d do.
“We find Kera first,” she said, “then once we know what is really going on with him and his relationship with the gods, in a way he will decide his own fate. I won’t deny there is a possibility your scimitar will be wet with his blood, old friend.”
A subtle grin came across the large man’s face. “I would enjoy that.”
Lilaci sighed. “Me too.”
“So we climb down into the canyon,” Ezmerelda said. “Let’s go.”
“It’s not as simple as that,” Roren said. “This isn’t an ordinary ravine, it was created by Dânoz himself to keep us back. Its high cliffs are sheer, and we don’t have enough rope to climb down. All hope isn’t lost, but we could use some luck for sure, as we’ve spent much time scanning for anyway down.”
“We will find one,” Gogenanth said, moving away from the wagon and walking over to Lilaci who stood as she watched her oldest friend, then just a boy, now a man, approach. He unsheathed his scimitar from his side, flipped it on its side before him and bent to a knee. Bowing his head, he held out his sword and lifted it up with both hands to her. “Until death finds me, or until the girl you seek is safe and your need of me is done, my sword is yours.”
Ezmerelda went and knelt next to him. “Where he goes, I go with.”
“Thank you both,” Lilaci said. “You both are more welcome than you know.”
“Aye,” Burr said. “I second that.”
“Me too,” Fewn said. “Good to have another ex-Scaether Lu-Polini with us.”
“He was never a Scaether,” Roren said. “Another reason you are welcome.”
Gogenanth and Ezmerelda both rose, and he returned his scimitar to his long scabbard at his hip. “Now let’s be off to find a way across this canyon,” he said.
They all packed up their things and readied the Ioxi and wagon to be back on their way. Ezmerelda spoke suddenly, “Just to be clear, we still really want to kill Veranor, just to be clear.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Walking along the high cliffs at their right, a hollow bellow cruised down in its depths. The sound was like a wide-bodied fife with an old barrel-bellied man slowly sending the air from his lungs through it. The canyon seemed to be almost . . . breathing. Down in the darkness of the long expanse of the canyon, Lilaci thought that going into that abyss may be like entering into another world. The winds that whistled along the flowing dunes of the desert were nothing like those that the lungs of the dark gorge had.
As they strode along the canyon, some mounted atop the Ioxi, some walking solemnly with focused, gazing eyes—the blinding white sun failed to fill the canyon with its light. So their eyes stayed fixed straight down, which made things tricky, as their heads had to hang over the side of it as they walked. Sometimes the winds blew from the east, which gave a brush of support to push against as they looked down into the darkness. Yet sometimes the winds crept from the west, wanting to blow them from the cliffs.
Lilaci let her silky hair blow out of her hood. It whipped at her neck and cheeks as she peered down. Today the winds were luckily blowing from the east, but still she crept lower than at a normal walk to keep her balance.
Roren walked just behind, and with a shuffle of his fee
t she felt him run up to her side. “Anything?” he asked.
“No.” She then looked up to him, with his wild blue eyes and bone necklace rustling on his coffee-colored chest with scattered black hair. “What is it?” she asked when he fell silent. “You should be searching the cliffs, is there something troubling you? You’ve been a bit . . . off, since Gogenanth and Ezmerelda have been around. Do you not trust them?”
“I trust them, that’s nothing.” He scratched his growing beard. “I don’t think anything is the matter. Yet I admit I do feel a bit different with them around. I’m not sure how to feel about it to be honest though. How do you feel about them? I mean to ask . . . do you feel better that he is back?”
“Of course I do,” she said. “Why wouldn’t I be glad? He is my oldest friend after all. Friend isn’t a word I use much.”
“You’re right,” he said, his eyes shifting back out to the endless desert before them, and back out to the canyon. “I didn’t mean anything by it.”
“No, what did you mean by that question?” said Lilaci. “I want to hear, don’t just turn your head.”
“It’s not of any importance,” he said, scratching his head. “I’m just worried for Kera, there are too many worries floating around in my head these days.”
Another moment of silence, and Lilaci caught an ever-so-slight sigh come from him after he cleared his throat.
“Tell me what you meant,” she said, “or I’m going to throw you clean off this cliff.” She was obviously joking, but she genuinely wanted to know if Roren had some sort of doubt about Gogenanth’s intentions.
“I just—I suppose, I was just asking because the way you talked about you two in the past . . . You made it sound like there was a romantic connection. I hope I’m not offending you by saying that. It’s just the way you described your time together back in Sorock. I didn’t know if him coming back after all these years, with . . . with her, made you feel . . . uncomfortable.”
