The Dragon Lords: False Idols

by Jon Hollins

  Cois laughed. Will sighed against his own wishes and better judgment. He heard Barph, and Lette let out little moans of their own.

  Barph shrugged. “I cannot change these things. I cannot change the world as it is. I can only plan around it.”

  “You plan around our deaths?” Lawl’s voice crackled like a thunderhead.

  Barph smiled, ducked his head in submission. “You and I both know that death is not the end, Father. Life goes on in the Hallows. As things stand, however, your death at the hands of the dragons will mark the moment when all your powers pass over to the reptilian usurpers. No one believes in a god they have seen defeated. No one worships them. All will believe in the dragons. All will worship them.”

  “I have to say, I am glad we have you back, Barph,” said Klink, who was clearly just playing to Cois now. “Otherwise things would be looking very bleak.”

  Cois laughed again, and there was another round of sighs. Klink looked terribly smug, and Toil equally sour.

  “You mentioned sex,” said Betra, doing an even worse job of sounding scandalized.

  “I said,” Barph went on, “that the dragons would steal your powers. But what if you didn’t have them when the dragons killed you? What would they have to steal?”

  Confused expressions rippled out through the copse of trees. “Not have them?” Lawl asked. The storm was closer now.

  Even Knole, Will noted, had looked up from her book. She had a finger on the edge of her page, holding the covers open, but her gaze, sharp and hard, was fully upon Barph.

  “What if you hid them?” said Barph. “What if you stored your powers somewhere else? What if the dragons killed you and stole nothing. What if you then retrieved your powers and worked against them? Undermined their power? Eroded their worship?”

  Barph looked around the group significantly. “It is far easier to criticize those that rule, than it is to rule. I simply propose we change the rules of the game. The dragons will oppress the people of Kondorra. It is in their nature as much as is their love of gold. The people will grow to resent and hate them. And so there we shall be, in the place the dragons are now. There we shall be with platitudes and kind words. And we shall change the course of this war. We shall steal back our rightful places in the heavens. We shall rule, and the dragons will be but a fading ripple in the memories of a few. A warning to any who dare oppose us.”

  His voice rang out at the last. And Will remembered all the times he had seen Firkin preach. The old man’s voice strident and cutting. The people curiously fascinated by all he had had to say. And here was all that strange magnetism with its mortal pretenses stripped away. And a few things about the past began to make sense.

  He could see the familiar effects happening here as well. The gods trying to surreptitiously catch each other’s eyes. They wanted to believe Barph. Even he wanted to believe him.

  And then Knole, the goddess of wisdom and knowledge, closed her book. “Betra’s right,” she said. You definitely said something about sex.” She pushed her hair out of her eyes.

  Will sighed. Because even in this moment, even trying to save themselves, and indirectly the rest of Avarra along with them, the gods were a bunch of horrendously self-centered pricks.

  “Ah,” Barph said. “Yes. The sex.” He was looking directly at Toil. “I thought you’d like this part.”

  Toil demonstrated restraint that had previously eluded him, limiting himself to coiled fists and ground teeth.

  “Sex and these mortals.” Barph swept his hand around. “Vessels. A repository for your divine powers. A place to keep them while the dragons kill you. And then, when the time comes, these mortals will return them to you.”

  This was greeted with silence. Everyone quietly working through the implications. Will felt like his brain was struggling to run in the waist-deep water of divine beings’ emotions. Sleep with … A repository for divine powers. He would have …

  Cois interrupted his flow. “We sleep with these mortals and deposit our divinity in them?” zhe asked. Zhe even managed to make it sound delicate.

  Barph bowed.

  “Oh, you are clever.” Zhe laughed again.

  “He’s a fucking imbecile!” roared Toil. “Deposit our divinity in … in …” He stared at Will, Lette, Balur, Afrit, and Quirk in utter horror. “In these?” The word sounded as if it had been embalmed in disgust.

  “I don’t know …” Cois shrugged. “Some of them have … certain appeals.” One finger played with hir lower lip.

  “Wife!” roared Toil, in full outrage.

  “There do seem to be … questions,” said Knole. Will watched her pace in a circle. She reached into a pocket in her dress and pulled out an apple. She bit into it deeply, chewed. The others watched her.

  “They are weak.” Knole had paced around to Will and prodded him in the back. He staggered a step, though the touch had been slight. He looked slightly dazed.

  “They are, by definition, mortal.” Knole chewed her lip. “It would be easy for the dragons to kill them, to take their powers. Easier than it would be for them to kill us.”

  “That is true, Aunt,” said Barph, with another of his subservient nods. False nods, Will was beginning to call them in his head. There was an element of performance to all of this. Will just didn’t see the third-act reveal yet.

  “However,” Barph went on, looking up, a gleam in his eyes. And Will realized he had an answer ready for this. When had he prepared it? “There are many, many mortals. Even if the dragons knew which mortals were serving as repositories for our power—and a lot will have to go wrong for them to know that—then they still will not know where they are. They could kill people at random, of course, hoping to get lucky, but how much do they erode their power base before they get that lucky?”

  “Who keeps them in line?” asked Lawl. He was watching Barph as carefully as Will was. “Who makes them give their divinity back? Who says that they do not run off with their newfound powers and make merry with the world while we languish at the dragon’s pleasure?”

  Another false nod. “I think, Grandfather, someone has to stay behind. Someone has to keep them in line.”

  Cois’s smile was broad as a river mouth. “Someone risks everything,” zhe said. “Someone risks losing their divinity. They risk having nothing to come back to.” Zhe made it sound like foreplay.

  “Oh!” Toil threw up his hands. “Now I see it! This is your petty revenge. You have me stay. You have me killed. You come back and take my place, like the ungrateful shit you always were.”

  Was that it? Will tried to think through all the buzzing in his head. All the foreign emotions and desires. He almost prayed to Knole for wisdom, but … with the goddess in front of him. No, he could not.

  “Actually, Father,” said Barph, “I was thinking it should be the one god that the dragons might not expect to face. The one god that there has been no evidence of for the past eight hundred years. The absent god.”

  “Oh,” breathed Cois. “My clever boy.”

  “You stay?” Toil was suspicious still.

  “It is my plan,” said Barph. “It is only fair that I take the risk.”

  Klink snorted. “As if fairness mattered to you.”

  Barph shook his head, and with a sincerity that shocked Quirk said, “If my time among the mortals has taught me anything, Uncle, it is the value of fairness.”

  And Will had a hard time believing that, except when he was looking straight at Barph.

  “We die,” said Lawl. “You live?”

  “I remain, Grandfather,” said Barph with another false nod. “I keep the mortals in line. I ensure we come to you to return your powers.”

  “And who is there to make sure you keep your promise?” But there was give in Lawl’s voice, Will thought. He was coming around.

  “The dragons,” said Barph simply.

  It was the smart play. To leave it simply at that. It was not a strong argument, but it was delivered with confidence, as if it we
re obvious. This whole encounter had the feeling of something rehearsed. But Barph had been back with them … an hour perhaps? So that could not be.

  The gods were hesitating. For once, Will couldn’t blame them.

  Again Cois was the first to speak. “Do we …” zhe said, fingering hir lower lip once more, “happen to get to choose the vessel in which we deposit our divinity?” Zhe was looking straight at Will. He could feel hir eyes boring into him. He could feel his willpower dissolving. He could feel his desire to do whatever zhe commanded overwhelming him.

  Desperately he tore his gaze away and looked for Lette. He did not want this. Well … he did. He desperately, desperately did. But that was not a desire native to his own soul. It was a desire planted there by another, a virulent weed that was choking out his own thoughts. And he needed her to know that.

  He caught Lette’s eye. And he saw sadness there. He saw hatred. Revulsion. Heartbreak. Glee. Bitterness. Excitement. And he didn’t know which of them was her true emotion.

  Behind him, the gods were haggling, bickering. They were so small in some ways. So petty. And he had struggled for them. Bled for them. His leg was shattered in two for them. To preserve their rule. It felt like such a mistake right now.

  Then he felt Cois’s fingers run thin trails across his shoulder blades. His willpower was water, running away into dry ground. His eyes rolled back. He tried to hold on to himself.

  “Her.” Another god’s voice penetrated the cracked shell of his consciousness. He looked up. Knole was pointing at Quirk. Quirk looked like a bug speared by a needle upon a corkboard. She looked around desperately.

  “I am really thinking Cois would be better with me.” Balur leaned into the proceedings.

  Will felt twin stabs of jealousy and hope. Perhaps somehow he would escape this.

  “I shall take the Analesian.”

  But it was not Cois who said it. And not Knole. And not Betra.

  Lawl pointed a finger at Balur. “My divinity is strong, and shall deserve a powerful container. This one is mine.”

  “Erm …” said Balur. “That is not exactly what I was having in mind.”

  Muscles rippled all over Lawl’s quite frankly magnificent body. Veins bulged and moved. Joints cracked. “You reject me?” thundered Lawl. “You question my favor?”

  “Erm …” Balur managed in a strangled voice. Will suspected that under the force of Lawl’s will it was a struggle to get that much out.

  “If … erm …” Afrit raised a tentative hand into the awkwardness. “If we’re making requests …” She was blushing furiously. “If Knole and Quirk needed a hand then I’d be … you know … I could … erm …” She was studying her feet with the kind of ferocity that Will usually associated with Balur mid-battle frenzy. “If that’s … Well …” Afrit worked her hands like she was trying to unscrew them from her wrists. “You see … I just thought …”

  Quirk was staring at Afrit with a look of absolute bafflement.

  Which meant she was the only person there who was shocked.

  He looked around, did some quick mental math. Three gods remained, Toil, Betra, and Klink. Facing them were Afrit and Lette. It did not seem like the equations were in Afrit’s favor.

  Toil got there too. “There are two women and three of us,” he pointed out, still sounding pissed.

  “Well,” Barph shrugged, and looked at Betra and her twin boys, “I just assumed you three would want to share someone again.”

  At this point, Toil finally ran out of words. He opened his mouth, closed it again. He gawped, gasped. He looked at Quirk’s feet.

  Klink shrugged. “Well, it doesn’t really seem like it’s worth denying at this point.”

  Betra said nothing, but she did sidle closer to Lette.

  “Fine,” said Barph, looking at Afrit. “Go with Quirk and Knole. Knock yourself out.”

  “Really?” Afrit probably couldn’t have sounded more excited had she actually been in bed with her one true love at that actual moment. Her mouth hung slightly open.

  Quirk’s reaction was significant in its disparity. Shock mingled with betrayal.

  “Don’t we get a say?” said Will as loudly as he could. Cois was a good step from him at this point, and Will felt he might have his wits about him right now, albeit briefly. But even without seeing it, he could feel Cois’s arched eyebrow like a whip crack across his back.

  “Yes!” said Balur just as loudly. “If Betra wished to join her husband even—”

  “Ew,” said Klink, shaking his head. “Don’t be vile.”

  “These are our bodies,” Will managed, despite Cois’s will crashing into his head. The rampaging beast of desire screaming at him to shut up. He wanted Lette to know his objections here. He wanted to save Quirk from a fate she clearly did not want.

  “It’s okay, Will.” Quirk flicked a slightly tortured glance in Afrit’s direction. “It’s okay.”

  Will ground his teeth. But … was this their best shot? He had no better plans. Was his objection simply that this mockery of what Firkin had once been had come up with the plan?

  “Excellent,” said Barph, clapping his hands together. “Now let’s lower our britches and save the world.”

  55

  The Two-Backed Beast

  Balur just wanted to murder dragons. That was all. That was why he had gotten involved in all this. When he had been doing it before, it had been being the greatest moment of his life. It had been being the most brutal and wondrous murder. It had been being the very edge of life. He had been standing on the cusp between existence and death. He had been teetering between the greatest height and the greatest abyss. Life had been flickering between the two. His heart had been thrumming like a plucked harp string. His muscles had been burning. Agony and ecstasy mixing in him like a divine cordial.

  And now …

  Now …

  Lawl, muscles rippling, looked up at him. “Come on,” he said, eyes approximately as coquettish as a stable door, “put it in me and let’s get this over with.”

  56

  The Four-Backed Beast

  Lette had assumed that she would enjoy this more. She liked sex. She had practiced it enough to believe she was quite good at it. She had certainly received compliments to that effect. And in her experience, men were poor at faking their pleasure.

  Will had certainly seemed to enjoy his time.

  Gods, Will.

  If he just hadn’t looked so gods-hexed happy about Cois picking him. And yes, he had argued against it, but Lette had seen his expression when Cois had stroked his back. Gods, she had seen the circus tent he had erected in his britches.

  And, yes, she knew that Cois had a certain … effect on people. The state of her own underwear after receiving Cois’s attention was perhaps better left unmentioned. And yet … still Will’s idiot smile played in front of her face again.

  That was her idiot’s smile, gods curse it. She put that smile on his face. Not some whore god(dess).

  And now here she was with two strapping young men—twins no less—and a woman who had clearly been around the block more than a few times, and yet … all she could see was that idiot smile.

  And it pretty much ruined the whole foursome experience for her.

  57

  The More You Know …

  Quirk, Knole, and Afrit stood and regarded each other. They had remained close to the fire while the others found their own private spots. They could already hear them going at it. Quirk rather wished they had found a more secluded spot. This might be easier if she couldn’t see the others’ faces.

  Afrit looked so eager …

  Had she known that Afrit would want this? She supposed in some ways she had. Or she could have known. It would not have been so hard to add up all the small touches, all the little glances. She remembered Afrit as she had been back in the Tamathian University, eager and anxious. Waiting for her like a puppy awaited its master to come home. And she remembered her in Vinter, staring at her, so di
sappointed.

  No, it would not have been so hard to work it out. And yet she, who claimed to prize knowledge and wisdom, she had remained willfully ignorant of this.

  She could not blame any of this on Afrit.

  But … Knole. She could still be disappointed in Knole. She could still rage against her goddess.

  “You were meant to be better than this.” Her voice sounded pathetically plaintive in her ears.

  Knole had taken a first step toward her. She stopped and cocked her head.

  “You were meant to be above this.” And now that the words had started, Quirk couldn’t stop them. And she couldn’t stop the horrible wheedling tone. “You were more than flesh, and sweat, and … and … juices. You were …” She waved a hand at the heavens. Why did her vocabulary have to abandon her now? “You were elevated,” she managed. “Above this.”

  She looked away from Knole. She couldn’t bear the sight of the goddess anymore. Unfortunately she made the mistake of looking at Afrit for support. And the look of sadness on her friend’s face was almost unbearable. But she still could not stop the words.

  “No!” she snapped. “No! I do not want your sympathy. This is not a plea for comfort. This is a demand for an explanation. I have been down in the flesh and the sweat. I have had flesh in my hands. I have taken, and taken. And you … you …” She thrust an accusing finger at Knole. It trembled like a branch in the grip of a summer storm. “You rescued me,” she accused. “You saved me from all of that.”

  She pulled in a ragged breath. “Why are you dragging me back down?”

  “Oh, Quirk.”

  Quirk felt a hand on her shoulder. And the touch was so familiar now. Afrit was there. And when Quirk looked at her, there was such sympathy in her eyes. Such wells of sadness. And, gods piss on it, so much gods-hexed love.

  “No,” she said, but Knole was advancing on the other side of her. And she knew this was the way forward for Avarra. This was her sacrifice.