Etchings of Power (Aegis of the Gods)

by Simpson, Terry C. ; Wilson-Viola, D Kai; Ordonez Arias, Gonzalo

  Sakari shrugged. “So he has been told.”

  “He doesn’t fear the children of the god of shades?”

  “My master fears no one.”

  The Harnan’s eyes widened, the whites making his black irises mere specks. “Not even the gods?”

  “He respects the gods. Fear them? No. Why should he fear that which does not walk among us? Besides, he serves Ilumni. Why should he fear the brother of his god?”

  “Dangerous words should the gods hear, traveler. All the gods should be feared. Anger one and our world ends.” The herder licked his lips, and peered around as if he expected something to jump from the air itself. Ryne chuckled inwardly at the man’s superstitions. When nothing happened, the herder let out a relieved breath.

  Sakari gestured to the adjoining mountain. “Last time we were within the Clouds, we sought and found the Svenzar on those slopes. This time they are not there.”

  “Yes. Rumor says when they could not find your master, Amuni’s Children unleashed death upon the Svenzar.” The herder’s jaw hardened as he spoke. “The Svenzar fled and called all the Sven back to the safety of Stone.”

  The air about the herder shifted for a brief moment. His aura wavered before it became solid again. In that second, the man appeared different to Ryne. The herder’s body bore dirt and stone in place of his flesh.

  “He’s a Sven,” Ryne said. He strode toward the man, ignoring the sudden rumble from the rockhound.

  “My master will speak to you now,” Sakari said. “You should call off your pet. My master knows what you are.”

  Sweat ran down the herder’s forehead. The liquid left a trail like water trickling over parched earth. He reached for his sword.

  “That is not a wise choice, Sven.” Sakari’s tone never changed.

  The Sven hooted to the rockhound.

  With a snarl, the beast lurched into a hunched position, forepaws forward, back up, and tail rigid. Not once did Ryne look in the hound’s direction as he continued toward the Sven.

  “I shall save you from yourself and my master. You will thank me one day.” Sakari turned to the rockhound.

  Several hoots issued from Sakari in perfect imitation of the Sven. The hound whined and looked confused. It stared at Ryne for a moment more, then the beast stalked down the slope, slipping through grass and brush toward the evergreen tree line.

  The Sven opened his mouth, and his hand touched his sword. Before he could unsheathe the weapon, Sakari’s foot thudded against the herder’s temple. The man dropped to the ground.

  “I told you I would save you,” Sakari said in the same flat voice.

  Ryne stood over the Sven. In the Sven’s own language, which was more musical rumbles than speech, he said, “I can see your Form, as you can see the elements within me. Drop the disguise and the pretenses. Take me to the Svenzar. They summoned me.”

  The man’s aura wavered again. This time when the shift happened, his real form remained.

  A creature of gray, hewn stone, with small cracks filled with soil, lay on the ground among the grass. It looked as if a stonemason had put together a life like statue carved from myriad pieces of rock using dirt for mortar. Strong, wet earth smells drifted up from the Sven.

  “How is it you speak my tongue, man of many swirls?” The Sven’s voice was a deep rumble of rhythmic thunder.

  Ryne shrugged, answering in Sven. “I speak every tongue. Whether a gift or a curse, I can’t say.”

  The Sven righted himself. It was not so much that he stood, as the ground writhed about his feet and under his body, until he shifted upright and like some great pillar, he grew from the earth.

  “Sakari.” Ryne turned his body so he could see Mariel on the trail above.

  “Yes?”

  Ryne gave a subtle nod to where the woman now crouched even closer. She’d inched near enough for him to read her. Light sparkled from her aura in varying, dancing patterns. He would always remember her now. “I don’t wish for her to see any more than necessary. Send the hound after her.”

  Sakari bowed and hooted several times.

  The rockhound bounded out from the trees and sprang toward the woman, dirt and grass flying into the air as its powerful legs and claws propelled the beast forward. In long, leaping strides, the hound covered half the distance to Mariel before she reacted.

  When she did, it was with astounding speed. Her head snapped toward the hound, and she snatched at her sword, sprinting to her left and up the hill. But the hound closed in faster still, its huge body a brown and green blur that matched the surroundings. There was no way she could escape.

  Just as the beast stretched within a few feet of the fleeing woman, she turned abruptly to face it, skidding through dirt and shale, her arms windmilling with the movement. Before Mariel’s body came to a full stop, the beast pounced, its jaws stretched wide, rows of white fangs closing quickly. In the middle of her slide, Mariel pushed up, somersaulting into the air and over the onrushing rockhound. Unable to stop its momentum, it crashed to the ground with a solid stone on stone thump, kicking up dust in its wake. Mariel landed, sprinted down the hill, and disappeared below a dip in the land. With a growl, the rockhound gathered itself, shook its body, and lurched after her.

  Ryne could only arch an eyebrow at the display.

  A basso musical laugh echoed from the Sven who now stood nine feet tall. The stoneform grabbed his stomach in his mirth, vibrations passing through him with every rumbling peal, dirt and rock chips falling from his body. The Sven’s eyes were smiling red pits, and his mouth nothing more than a curved slit. He had no nose or ears. His entire countenance now resembled cracked marble, shiny in some places and dull in others.

  “She runs well for one so small,” the Sven said between breaths.

  Ryne smiled. “Come. Take me to the Svenzar.”

  The Sven nodded, and his laughter subsided. As he climbed the slope, his feet trampled grass and brush in their way. The foliage sprouted upright soon after each passing step.

  They followed the twisting trail for several miles, past glens and running springs. A few times, they passed roaring waterfalls that cascaded from some unseen height. Overhead, ominous thunderheads still threatened. The white cliff they soon reached soared up into the dark blanket above. Vines and moss climbed the walls, and flowers in rainbow-like colors grew in erratic patterns all along its surface. A slit showed in the cliff face.

  “Pass through here. The Svenzar will meet you on the other side.” With that, the Sven touched the cliff, melting into it as if he walked through a curtain of rock.

  Ryne glanced at Sakari, who shrugged. After a deep breath, Ryne stepped into the slit.

  All sense of balance and direction fled him, and he felt as if he fell a great distance in the dark. The bottom of his stomach dropped.

  A few moments later, they stood in water up to their ankles within an area enclosed by four cliff walls. Small pebbles and rocks lined the ground. Of the slit, no sign remained.

  Ryne’s eyes widened at the sight around him. Sakari stood beside him, his face passive. Moss, lichen, and flowers carpeted the cliff faces. Birds with brilliant plumages sang and soared from wall to wall, and large insects flitted and buzzed. Thousands of feet above, waterfalls dropped from each precipice with a muffled rumble, their foamy waters ending in midair, but somehow light mist still brushed Ryne’s face.

  More shocking than the sight though was what he felt. Even without his Matersense he could feel the elements buffeting around him. He knew of only two other Entoses. Never did he expect to find one here in the Nevermore Heights. How many more were there in the world?

  As the thought raced through his mind, the essences grew more violent. They crashed around him in a pull so strong he almost reached out to them. In response, his lust rose in a red-hot wave and attempted to surge to the surface to greet the primordial forces. He battered the rush until it calmed into a gentle flow lapping against a distant shore. A shudder passed through him as the heat
subsided.

  Sakari’s hand tapping Ryne’s arm brought his focus back to what lay before them. From the opposite wall grew a gigantic granite creature. Easily three times Ryne’s height, its carved body of sharp planes stretched half as wide as it was tall and its feet disappeared beneath the waters of a calm pond, pristine white lilies floating undisturbed upon the water’s surface.

  “Welcome, Ryne Waldron,” said a soft masculine voice in Sven.

  The giant’s mouth seemed big enough to swallow a wagon. Its voice tinkled in musical tones. After it spoke, a light breeze carrying an earthy odor reached Ryne and sent ripples across the pond’s surface. The creature’s body remained set into the cliff.

  “Halvor?” Ryne gaped at the giant. “Um, you’ve grown a bit since we last met. I thought you said you would be full grown when you reach a millennium. You were…nine hundred then?”

  “Yes. And I am a millennium now.”

  The breeze reached Ryne again. “But that was only thirty years ago.”

  Halvor chuckled and the walls vibrated. Stone and earth broke away and dropped into the water with a splash. “Our years are not your years.”

  “Evidently. Halvor, I must speak to your masters.”

  “I am a master now. I am a Svenzar.” Halvor’s breath came a little harder this time.

  Ryne frowned. Last time he saw Halvor, the creature was a Sven, only as big as the one that led them here. “How?”

  “Soon after you visited, Amuni’s Children arrived, hunting you. When they could not find you, they took several of our leaders.” Halvor’s girth seemed to shrink. “A dark time for us. Dark indeed.”

  Ryne’s eyes narrowed. “How could they take them?”

  “There were those among them who bested my masters.”

  “Here?” Ryne’s concentration on holding his lust at bay while not succumbing to the Mater around him faltered with his surprise. He wrenched his will back into control, keeping his face smooth so as not to reveal his struggle. “They bested you here where the elements of Forms are strongest? Where the earth, stone, and forests of the mountains themselves answer to your power?” Ryne tilted his head toward Sakari, but his friend showed no reaction to the news.

  Halvor’s arm swept away from him in a wide gesture. Boulders tore from around him, fell, and sent up a great showering roar of water and debris when they impacted around his feet. His tinkling voice penetrated the din, “Yes. Look to the lands. The shade advances. They are more powerful than any thought.”

  His eyebrows knitting with doubt, Ryne asked, “I’ve seen a few, but surely they could be no real threat? Not after the destruction they suffered at the hands of the combined Denestian armies.”

  “You invite defeat by underestimating your enemy,” Halvor said.

  “What did they do with your leaders?”

  “We do not know, but those who resisted were killed and their children with them.The remaining masters did not want to risk them discovering Stone and all our people living there so they gave of themselves.”

  “I’m sorry, Halvor.”

  The Svenzar waved a massive hand. “It is Humelen’s will.”

  With that wave, the Svenzar’s stoneform changed. His great size reduced until he stood the same height as the Sven. His feet splashed through the water, sending up a shower of lilies as he strode to them. The lilies landed back onto the roiling surface of the pond in impossibly perfect order, bobbing as if they’d never been disturbed. Ryne took an inadvertent step backwards before he forced himself to stand his ground.

  “Seeing as you accepted the summons, it means you have answers to what the masters asked of you, and questions for me.” Halvor stopped just before he reached them.

  “Who am I? Why am I here?” Ryne asked before he stopped to think.

  Halvor smiled, and stone chips fell from his face like crumbling earth kicked off a precipice. “You ask questions without providing answers. That is no way to bargain.”

  Ryne exhaled. Halvor tried his patience during his last visit as well. Ryne knew better than to get angry as he did then, so he answered, “Light to balance shade. Light to show honor. Honor to show mercy.” Light’s Tenet. “Why do you require this from me anyway?”

  The Svenzar’s face smoothed in quiet contemplation, his gaze fixed on Ryne. When Ryne said nothing more, Halvor’s face brightened. “You’re a warrior.”

  Ryne gritted his teeth. “That’s it? The answer to my first question? So many years waiting and you tell me something I already know?” His tenuous control waned with his frustration.

  “I told you. You already have the answers, yet you still seek them. Now you must complete the ceremony.”

  “And if I don’t?” Ryne countered.

  Halvor’s lips turned downward. “Again, you already know this.” He locked gazes with Ryne. “You stay here forever, lashed to Humelen’s and Liganen’s wills.”

  Ryne knew the Svenzar spoke the truth, and he could do nothing about it. If he did not finish this, he would remain trapped by the gods of Forms.

  “The elements of Mater must exist in harmony,” Ryne said. The first Principle of Mater.

  Halvor gestured to Ryne’s body. “And that which covers you? Your Scripts?”

  Ryne grimaced. He sought answers, and instead, he faced questions. Ryne pointed to the intricate, lifelike artwork of his Scripts. “A representation of Mater—the core of all creation and the elements and their essences that exist within it. The solids of the Forms, the liquids of the Flows, and the energy of the Streams.”

  The Svenzar’s stone face crinkled as he beamed. “You have learned well that which you already know.”

  “I’m not here for the games and riddles.” Ryne scowled. “If I already knew as you say, I wouldn’t be here.” The red wave began to roil once more.

  Halvor’s voice changed to a monotone. “We may smile and laugh, but the Svenzar never play. And I have told you no riddles, just the truth.”

  “Then tell me why you required this of me.”

  “Because, in the past you abused all the Tenets and Principles when using your Scripts. You were as a child with no parent to guide you.”

  Or a man drunk from his own power. “And now?” Ryne asked.

  “Now, you are still a child, but one who has shown a degree of maturity. Remember, the most important Discipline is control. Without it, you are nothing.”

  Ryne balled his hands into fists. “I didn’t come here for a lecture. Just tell me what my purpose is in this world?” The primal elements outside beat at him as his bloodlust rose to a boil. He wanted to strike out, while another part of him struggled for some semblance of control. It would be pointless, not to mention fatal, to lose himself within the Svenzar’s home. Something about the lily pond and its impeccable flowers drew Ryne’s attention, tickling a memory.

  As if he sensed Ryne’s impending rage, and Sakari’s small shift to attention, Halvor slowly melted into the floor. His body became one with the stones in the water.

  “What’s my purpose?” Ryne shouted, the boiling within him surging with increased violence. Instead of forcing back the feeling, he embraced it and guided it deep inside himself until it seemed to float like the lilies on the pond’s surface.

  “To battle.”

  “Is that all I am? Death, destruction and suffering?” Ryne yelled as the Svenzar faded. There must be more. Dear Ilumni, make it so there is more to me than this.

  And just like that, he found tranquility. A moment later, his eyes blurred as a dizzy spell snatched at him.

  Halvor’s voice tinkled all around. “You are what you choose to be.”

  An emptiness filled Ryne. What was the point of coming all this way if he would end up with the same issue as before. “What if I don’t wish to make these choices anymore? What if I no longer wish for battle? What if I just wish to be left alone?” With his bloodlust gone, the Mater within the Entosis settled evenly about him.

  Halvor reappeared in the wall. “That t
ime has passed. Your enemies know you’re here. They will seek you out. Your days of rest are done.”

  Ryne opened his mouth.

  “A way to your answers has been provided for you. A way to make things right. If you seek it.”

  “What way?” Ryne asked.

  “You’ll know him when he is ready.” Halvor paused and cocked his head to one side. “Be careful what you pray for. The gods march.”

  Ryne fell, his mind spinning as if he spiraled into cavernous depths. Darkness engulfed him.

  CHAPTER 16

  Dimly aware of her eagles following high above, blood thundering in her ears as she fled for all she was worth, Irmina crashed through brush and branch, flower and fauna, vine and leaf, her breaths a burning rasp in her chest. Sweat drenched her shirt, causing it to cling to her back and chest and trickle down into her crotch. Behind her the rockhound’s heavy footsteps pounded, and more than once she heard the splintering crash of wood as it sheared through another tree trunk, head first, not bothering to skirt them in its pursuit.

  She’d barely managed to reach the Nevermore Heights’ Cloud Forests ahead of the beast, having to rely on a headlong plunge off a precipice to gain her some distance. A glance over her shoulder after she landed and rolled, showed the mottled girth of the stoneform creature pacing at the cliff’s edge. Smiling, she relaxed. That had been her first mistake. The loud thud of the beast landing behind her sent her scampering away once more. Her second mistake was thinking the undergrowth and thick boles within the forest would win her a big advantage. They certainly did slow the rockhound, but it was inevitably catching up.

  Thighs numb from the constant pumping of her legs, Irmina continued to flee. Through the brush, another mottled form sped adjacent to her. A second hound. Her heart thumped louder, and she drove her legs harder. The one pursuing her roared, the sound reverberating through the air as it announced its territorial claim. A whine issued from the new hound, and it drew to a halt, its gaze still fixed on her before the beast passed from the edge of her vision.

  Irmina sucked in a deep breath, her heart rate soothing just a touch. Until another roar from her pursuer echoed. This time closer. At least within twenty feet if her judgment was correct. She dared not look back. Not that she needed to; the crashes of a massive body through brush, the crunch of stone paws on broken branches, the guttural snarls of the beast told a story all of their own.