“Gotcha!”
She looked inside and found nothing within the shallow opening.
“What the…where did you go?”
“I’m right here,” came a voice from behind.
She whipped around, but found nothing but silent trees and drifting pollen in the twilight.
“Or am I right here?” his voice came from behind again.
She turned around and found herself face-to-face with him. With a yelp, she stumbled backwards and lost her footing. As she fell over the side, Wei reached out and grabbed her by the hand, helping her back up.
“Careful, we don’t want you bumping your head again.”
She looked at him in wonder. “How did you do that?”
“What? This?”
He stepped backwards into the trunk of the tree, his body merging and becoming moss and bark, until the trunk remained undisturbed as before. A moment later, the bark of a nearby tree began to bulge outwards, wood and lichen forming into the shape of a body. His green eyes opened, and there he was, standing on the far branch.
“Did you know that out people can merge completely with the forest?” he asked excitedly.
“I had no idea.”
“We can travel huge distances, emerging from whatever tree we choose.”
Two copies of Wei landed on either side of her, startling her.
“We can even make duplicates of ourselves from the matter of the forest floor,” they said in unison.
The two copies crumbled apart into a collection of fallen twigs and leaves.
She reached out and caught some of the falling leaves, feeling the warmth of the spiritual essence in her hands.
“That’s amazing.”
He melded back into the tree and reemerged beside her. “We literally are the forest. Oh, Philiastra, there is so much I have to teach you. You don’t even know the smallest part of the potential you have inside of you.”
She look up, enthralled. “I want to learn it all.”
He took her hands happily. “And I will teach it to you. Every secret I have discovered.”
She laughed and spun around, balancing on one toe as she twirled. “Oh, I feel like myself. For the first time in forever, I feel like I belong. Oh, Wei, I can’t tell you how grateful I am to you.”
She paused. “Oh! I haven’t introduced you to Mikródéntro.”
“I’ve sensed no new tree here.”
“She’s still young. She’s a fílos tree.”
“From Dasikí Chará?”
“You’ve grown a new tree and brought it here? That’s amazing. Fílos trees are really hard to grow.”
She blushed. “Thanks.”
“This is prefect! We can make a new forest right here of our own native trees. We can grow it right on top of the remains of the filthy human village.”
She grabbed his hand and they took off through the woods. When they emerged from the clusters of giant mushrooms, they found Mikródéntro basking happily under the night sky and soaking in the moonlight.
“Hey, Mikró, I have someone to introduce you to,” Philiastra said happily.
The tree shimmered angrily.
“I know, I know, I’m sorry I left you for so long. This is Wei, he’s a childhood friend of mine.”
The young fílos tree flashed her aura in greeting, and Wei flashed his own in return.
“She is so healthy,” Wei praised, coming closer and inspecting her leaves. “I’ve never known a fílos tree to survive a sea voyage before.”
Philiastra took one of the young tender leaves in her hand and traced her fingers along the smooth green surface. “Storge helped me apply the dendrýllio oil to her leaves four times every day when we were at sea.”
Suddenly she looked up at the night sky. “Wait, it’s nighttime already?”
“It’s nearly dawn,” Wei said, looking out peacefully at the horizon.
“I should go back and check on my friends.”
“Oh, I’m sure they’ve left by now.”
“What? But it’s only been a few hours.”
“Hours?”
“Yeah, you know, segments of time, 1/24th of the day?”
He snorted. “You’ve spent too much time among the humans. Our people are practically eternal, we don’t measure existence by their fractions of time.”
“Why? How long have I been here?”
“Does it matter?”
“Yes, it does a little, I mean.”
Mikródéntro glittered.
“Yeah, ’a long time,’ doesn’t help me, Mikró, I need something more precise.”
Wei shrugged and put his hands up to the stars, trying to measure their slow course through the heavens.
“I’d say it’s been about two weeks since you came here.”
Her mouth dropped open. “Two weeks?!”
“Fourteen cycles, give or take a moon.”
She hugged herself nervously. “Holy crap! Two weeks? Are you serious?”
“Why would I lie?”
She felt dizzy. “How did I lose track of so much time?”
Wei seemed confused. “Philiastra, you didn’t lose track of time, you feasted on it. This is how we were meant to exist. Why shackle yourself to some filthy human schedule?”
She began pacing. “What will they think? I just took off into the woods and disappeared for two weeks? They’re probably worried sick.”
“Why would you worry about what humans think?”
She looked down at her skimpy attire and suddenly felt a little embarrassed. “What will they think when they see me like this?”
“It’s none of their business how you dress.”
Wei stepped in front of her, blocking her pacing. “Haven’t you been happy here with me?”
Her expression softened. “Yes, it has been wonderful. But, they’re my friends, and I’m worried about them.”
She grabbed his hand and they took off running. “Come on, we’ve got to go look for them.”
* * *
Ouranos tapped his gavel and the hall went silent. “The transfer of authority is complete. Now, if you prefer, you can go back to squabbling like children about the fate of Estia and Tharros.”
He noticed Sirend and Reinala scowling at him
“Ahem. I’m sorry, I said that out loud, didn’t I?”
“I may have something to say about that,” came a dark and bubbling voice.
Black fume began to seep up through the seams in the floor, the marble blackening and cracking at the touch.
“Who dares defile the sanctity of this conclave?” Sirend demanded.
The fume condensed into an oily tar, broiling and bubbling as it rose up like a melting statue. “Oh now, surely you remember me, dear brother.”
Sirend’s skin became icy cold. “Fovos.”
The dark slime creaked and cracked, black bones blending within as dripping limbs began to form. “The centuries have been kind to you, Desmas. Your daughter has your eyes.”
Desmas turned away in shame. Demi-gods and servants backed away in shame, many dropping their trays and fans and running for their lives.
Sirend stepped closer, his body storming. “Who released you from the Underworld?”
A skeleton of black bones began to take shape, dripping with a coat of tar that ate away at the floor where it dripped. “Yes, things down in the Underworld have become complete chaos in my absence. No one to oversee so many condemned souls. Did you really appoint no one to man the prisons in my absence? Why, the dead there are close to boiling over.”
“Is that a threat?”
“Why would I have need to threaten you, dear brother?”
“Enough of this!”
Sirend guzzled a goblet full of ambrosia and released a blast of holy power that rocked the earth and the heavens. Even the gods retreated; the clamor becoming a rout in many places as mortals and deities made for the exits. White beyond pure white, the beam struck across the hall, only to be met by a second beam, equal to the
first in whiteness and intensity. The two forces struggled against one another, finally cancelling each other out completely in a rush of superheated air.
Sirend stood there, breathing heavily as the steam settled, only to find himself staring back at a mirror image of himself, its hand outstretched in reflection of his.
“What dark sorcery is this?!”
Nisi drew her golden gladius and belted a warcry as she charged the copy of Sirend, but it shifted into black tar again, reforming into a mirror image of her. Her gladius clanged against its copy, the two divine weapons shrieking and striving against one another in a pyrotechnic fountain of color and flame, until both had cancelled one another out.
Nisi stepped back to recover, finding herself staring at a perfect duplicate of herself.
The copy smiled, then melted back into a writhing mass of black bones and tar. “When you incarcerated me within my own prison, dear brother, you expected me to diminish and fade. And in a way, I did. The individual I was is gone. I am nothing now but a shadow.”
“How is this possible? No mortal worships you.”
“It is true, there is no worship to be found within the Underworld. No love or gratitude, but it is not devoid of emotion.”
He reached up and pulled his ribcage apart, revealing a molten red heart beating within. It burned their skin as the light fell upon them, and even the gods were forced to shield their faces.
“What is that?”
“That is the heart of Death, all that remains of the great elemental you slew long ago.
Reinala shook her head. “Impossible, we took his authority, the gods are masters of death now.”
“It is true you may now end the lives of whatever you choose, but there is one thing stronger than death.”
“And what is that?”
“Hate. In the Underworld, there is an abundance of hate, and I have sustained myself at the point of dissolution, drinking from the bitterness of my fellow prisoners, waiting patiently until the day came when I was released.”
Even Sirend and Reinala took a step back. “What do you want?”
The mass gurgled in amusement. “Isn’t it obvious? I want peace.”
The two elder gods looked at each other in confusion. “Peace?”
A condemning finger of dripping bones pointed at them. “Don’t forget, it was you who betrayed me. I kept my part of the bargain. I fought with you as an ally in the war against the Fates. It was my forces that fought their way across the forbidden mountains. It was my forces that smashed apart the Clouded Gate. I did everything I swore I would do. I dealt honorably with you. It was you two who conspired to dishonor me, taking away my bride, who was rightfully and lawfully mine.”
“She was unhappy,” Desmas called out.
“I gave her every comfort, every honor!” Fovos bubbled. “I lavished her with all the tender care a husband can give.”
“She was miserable!”
“SHE was miserable? While you gods basked in the warmth of the sun for countless ages, I was left to rot in the Underworld.”
“It was an honored position,” Sirend defended. “You were granted as much authority as any other elder.”
Fovos scoffed, dark bubbles forming on his melted lips. “To rule within a dank, dark prison is still to live within that prison, brother.”
He turned to Jabez. “What say you, God of Justice? Who was in the wrong, me or you gods?”
Jabez lowered his eyes. “We were.”
Reinala snapped her gaze. “Jabez!”
“It’s true! You promised him Estia, then broke your word. It was because of you that the era of Binding Contracts began, for Gods could no longer trust one another as they had in the past.”
Reinala narrowed her eyes. “You will pay for that later.”
Jabez looked back at her with a mixture of fear and pride. “I cannot lie.”
“I have no intention of avenging myself upon any of you,” Fovos gurgled.
They all looked at him suspiciously. “Really?”
“Sincerely. We have all lost so much, what would renewed conflict accomplish?”
“Well, your pride of course,” Lichas answered, as if it were obvious. Several gods nodded in agreement.
“I have no need for pride anymore. After my long imprisonment, that desire has died within me.”
A collective sigh of relief moved through the hall.
“I wish to rejoin my brothers and sisters, as a god of this world.”
“But, which side will you join?” Sirend wondered.
“Yes, you must join mine,” Reinala pressed.
“I wish to remain neutral, for now. It will take me some time to reestablish my domain, and I have no servants to aid me.”
He held out a gooey skeletal hand. “I forgive all of you your betrayal. All I ask in return is that you give me what is mine.”
* * *
“…And why is there a ‘G’ in the word laughter?” Agaprei added cheerfully.
Storgen snapped his fingers. “I know, right? It’s not like we pronounce it ‘laggter’ or something.”
She threw out her arms. “Yes, thank you! And why do we pay attention? Who are we paying it to?”
“We ‘pay attention,’ but we ‘give heed?’ Why is it always a transaction?”
“Right, why the economics?”
“Sometimes I’ve heard ‘take heed,’ so I guess heed can be stolen, but attention has to be paid?”
“I wonder what the exchange rate is. Half an attention for two heeds?”
She clapped her hands. “Yes! Yes, that’s it exactly.”
He stood up. “And in Agadis, do the nobles say, ‘hail noble,’ when they meet each other?”
“Oh, yes, all the time!”
“Every time I hear it, you know what I think?”
She sat up, delighted, “Oh, I think I do!”
He made an overly dramatic bow. “I always think, ‘Hail, Noble.’”
“…Snow, Noble,” she continued, giving a faux curtsy.
“And Rain, Noble,” he concluded.
“I do that too!”
She rolled onto her back, laughing so hard her face began turning red. She had such an infectious laugh, even the nearby guards couldn’t help but chuckle.
He threw his head back and laughed with her from within his cell, a deep, honest belly laugh.
She wrapped her hands around her waist. “Oh, my gosh, my sides hurt from laughing so much.”
“We’re going to have incredible abs after all this.”
She sat up. “So, I gotta ask. You can’t use magic either, right?”
“Yup.”
“So, how do you travel around? You can’t use sonic tunnels, right?”
“I walk. It kinda sucks.”
“Yes it does! Doing anything takes forever.”
“Just going to the market takes hours.”
“I know, right? Like, back home, I had this huge reputation for being a snob. People thought I was really antisocial.”
“You don’t seem antisocial to me.”
“That’s the thing, I’m not, but they always thought I hated everyone because I’d rarely go to their parties even when I was invited.”
Storgen leaned forward. “Let me guess, they’d invite you to a shindig but it was twenty leagues away.”
“Yes, see, you get it. Why don’t they understand? Twenty leagues is waaay too far to walk for a coming-of-age party, and do you have any idea how much it costs to rent a land-dragon?”
“Probably a lot.”
“It’s like fifty pennigs a league. Not including food for the thing. If I have to choose between taking out a loan and turning you down for your book club, I’m going to turn you down for your stupid book club.”
“No one reads the books, anyway.”
“To say nothing about the fact that the capos always want something as collateral.”
“Yeah, the actuaries back home are the same way.”
She rested her f
ace on her hand. “That’s not the worse part, though.”
Storgen nodded. “The worst part is, every time it just reminds you that the universe hates you.”
She looked up. “Yes, that’s it exactly. And people think they’re being polite by offering to change the venue, or send a carriage to pick you up...”
“They think they’re being helpful.”
“But all they’re really doing is rubbing it in your face that you’re different.”
“And you don’t want to be different. You want to be part of something.”
“You want to be on the inside, not on the outside.”
Agaprei was surprised at how much she was opening up. She had learned long ago how to filter what she talked about, how to hide what she really felt, but with him, it just didn’t seem necessary. She didn’t even realize she was doing it at first, but being honest with him felt as effortless as breathing.
“You know, I’ve never talked about this with anyone,” she admitted. “Not even my sister.”
“It’s because you don’t want her pity.”
“Yeah, I never really thought about it, but you’re right, that’s precisely the reason. When I was a kid, everyone treated me like I was this crippled little infirm. I hated it. The way they’d look at you, like you might break at any time. I just wanted to be a kid like the other kids. I wanted to stand on my own two feet, with help from no one. But, no one will give you that chance when all they think about is you getting hurt.”
“I love that you use the word ‘precisely,’ it’s such a good word.”
“It rolls off the tongue in a pleasing manner,” she agreed.
Storgen ran his fingers through his mane of blonde hair. “When I was a kid, the only thing the world wanted was to figure out what was wrong with me. Not to fix me, of course, but to see if it could be made useful. I was raw material, not a person, in service of people that actually mattered. I learned real quick the world didn’t care what I thought. My feelings meant nothing to anyone but me. And so, I figured, if the world doesn’t care for me, then I won’t care for the world, either. I’d walk my own path. The world didn’t concern itself with my opinion, so why should it have a say in how I live my life?”
She scooted a little closer. “Does it bother you, being cut off from all magic?”
He took a long breath. It wasn’t something he liked to admit. “Every day.”
Ambrosia Page 63
