“Anyway, Hubul’s son learned that he could visit both realms and his power remained unchanged. He used this knowledge to seek allies, focusing first on the weaker gods who felt disrespected among the pantheon. Eventually, several of the more powerful gods became disenfranchised with Hubul’s rule. Some say the son’s most staunch supporter was a half-sibling.
“While this was happening in the heavens, Hubul’s son also managed to rally many humans on Untan to his cause. Most notably, the entire population of the City of Pillars agreed to fight with him should the battle for the throne come to our realm. At the time, it was the most powerful city in the world, highly advanced even by our standards.
“The son managed to keep this all a secret until some of the citizens in the City of Pillars grew slack in their worship of Hubul. Instead, they prostrated themselves before images of his son. The son was forced to act sooner than intended when he saw that the worship of the people in the City of Pillars would expose his plans.”
Andrasta grunted. “In Hegra, a man told us that the City of Pillars was destroyed in the battle of the gods.”
“Only after the battle was moved from the heavens to our world. Everyone in the city died. Hubul buried it in sand and cursed the surrounding lands for their betrayal. This area is what’s now known as the Empty-Hand Desert.”
“I’m sure this is fascinating to your people, but I don’t care. You’ve told me nothing about how this relates to Hubul’s Host, why you’re keeping me, or where my partner is.”
It’s probably a good thing Rondel isn’t here. He’d be unable to keep his mouth shut and rip these stories apart.
The thought of Rondel left a bitter taste on her tongue she tried not to show. I should have never allowed us to separate. I should have trusted my instincts and made him see the truth.
Melek gave her a look that had her wondering if the man would try to strike her. It was obvious these stories were important to him even if Andrasta thought them riddled with holes and inconsistencies. How does the father of their gods, someone so powerful, not see this coming?
Melek relaxed with a deep breath. “Moving forward then. After Hubul defeated his son, he actually forgave some who fought against him. Others he destroyed. Many others he punished, banishing them from the heavens. They became what we know as the more powerful djinns and ghuls which haunt our land today. The punishment served two purposes. Those gods no longer have access to the beauty of the heavens and the humans are forced to deal with those abominations for their betrayal.”
“That doesn’t seem very fair. We suffer for the mistakes of ancestors from thousands of years ago.”
“Who are we to question the fairness of the father? Besides, the creatures are not invincible. They can be captured or killed. A djinn can die if you know the name it once held before Hubul turned it into something else.”
She thought of the djinn they captured in Hegra. He acts like their true name is something easy to obtain.
He paused. “Despite all that his son had done to him, Hubul spared him as well as the other child who betrayed him.”
“I’m sure the other gods hated that.”
“Yes, but their punishment did much to alleviate their anger. The son is half of what he once was.”
“But still part god.”
Melek nodded. “Yes. But he would need to raise another human army if he ever wanted to challenge Hubul again. This would be impossible because the sight of him is so grotesque that men are repulsed by it. Only ghuls and djinn will ally themselves with him.”
If you say so.
“Hubul also commissioned loyal humans to guard and destroy a mask that could restore his son’s full power. It can only be destroyed during the aligning of the heavens which occurs once every five hundred years. However, it is also the only time that Nasnas, as the son is now called, can perform the ritual necessary to regain his former powers. Four times, we have failed to destroy the Mask of Halves. The only thing that makes our failures palatable is that we have kept Nasnas from performing the ritual.”
Andrasta shook her head. “Wait. Explain the mask. You skipped that part and I know very little of it.”
“When the son—”
“Just call him Nasnas. Regardless of what his name used to be, it’s much easier to keep track of.”
“Very well. Toward the end of the battle at the City of Pillars, Nasnas sensed defeat. He fled to the sacrificial altar at the center of the city with one man and one creature from the heavens. He bound the things that made them what they were in the wards of a mask created by the city’s artisans. Apparently, Nasnas always doubted his victory because he had to speed up his plan. Therefore, he had something constructed beforehand and ready for use if needed. He bound a piece of himself as well as the powers that came from the alignment of the heavens. It was a huge risk, but paid off as Hubul could not destroy the mask himself. Essentially Nasnas conceded the battle with plans to win a much longer war.”
“I don’t understand. Why can’t Hubul destroy the mask? I thought he was supposed to be all powerful,” Andrasta said.
“He is powerful, individually greater than any other god or goddess. But he is not all powerful. Gods can be harmed and even die.” Melek paused. “Nasnas did something to the mask that prevents Hubul or anyone whose home is in the heavens from touching it. That is why Hubul tasked humans, us, to do is will.”
“So you don’t know what Nasnas did to it?”
Melek shrugged. “Understandably, our annals are silent. Why would Hubul allow such knowledge to remain here where others besides Nasnas might use it against him?”
I’ll concede that at least. But still, there are so many questions. She suppressed a snort. Gods, I feel like Rondel.
“What about Nasnas’s creation of the mask?” she asked, taking advantage of her talkative host.
“What do you mean?”
“How could he know what needed to be created to restore his powers before his father stripped them from him?”
Melek sucked his teeth and allowed a small grin. “Yes. I agree there is a gap in our histories. One that comes up from time to time.”
“I call it a hole in the story. Something is missing.”
“I’m sure there are many somethings missing. But I believe we have all we need to carry out Hubul’s will. We know the Mask of Halves exists and we know what it can do. Every detail about how it came about is not necessary for me to destroy it.”
She couldn’t hold back her snort any longer, even rolling her eyes as she did so.
So, what is Rondel’s role in this mess? Or Shadya’s?
“I know you have more questions but I haven’t presented mine yet,” said Melek. “Who trained you?”
Andrasta didn’t even bother hiding her surprise. The question was the farthest thing she had expected to be asked. “How is that relevant to anything?”
“I’ll decide what’s relevant. Who trained you? Who taught you how to fight?”
“I was trained in Juntark.”
Melek sighed. “I did not ask where you were trained. I asked who trained you?”
“His name was Master Enzi.”
“And who trained him?”
“I don’t know. His master, I presume.”
“He did not have you learn the history of instructors?”
“No.”
“Sloppy.” Melek grunted. “Was this Master Enzi Juntarkan?”
Andrasta paused. “Yes.”
“You hesitated. Why?”
“He may not have been full-blooded. However, any other race in his lineage would have been introduced generations back.”
“Perhaps Erban?”
“Possibly.”
“Do you know when Master Enzi’s style of fighting might have come to Juntark? I assume it had not always been part of the culture.”
She worked her jaw. “No. He said the style was thousands of years old. However, the griots—”
“Griots?”
“Oral historians in
Juntark. They said it had only been taught for a couple of centuries in our lands.”
Melek mumbled some curse.
“Why are you so interested in my training?”
“Because in many ways it is similar to our own. I’m sure you sensed it.”
She nodded.
Melek rubbed his chin. “Granted, parts have changed. Evolved rather. Centuries ago, a member of the host named Sakhr became enraged with the captain at the time. According to the annals, Sakhr was the best fighter the Host had ever seen, but he was not captain and so regardless of how poorly he thought we were being led, he could do nothing about it. He became disenfranchised with Hubul for allowing such stupidity to lead his chosen. So, he left. Several went after him to make him return as he was our trainer. Those men never returned and were presumed dead. We never learned what happened to Sakhr but without his instruction, certain knowledge we once had disappeared.” He rubbed his brow. “That, in many ways, was the beginning of the end for the Host. It has slowly deteriorated since.”
“So it’s likely that Sakhr was an ancestor of Master Enzi?”
“Probably.”
“So, now that you’ve closed that gap in your histories, what is your plan for me?” She tensed, waiting for an answer.
“Though many of the Host are loathe to admit it, you’re obviously a great warrior. No one in the Host can defeat me, yet you won our first round of fighting. I want you to help us retrieve the Mask of Halves.”
She chuckled. “You want me to join the Host?”
“No. You will not join the Host. You will just fight with us.” Melek paused and Andrasta could see how hard this was for him to admit. “We’re in unique circumstances and sometimes that requires unique solutions. You will be under constant guard by Khalil. Though you may have skill against fighting sorcery, I promise you won’t gain an upper hand on him. He is too experienced, too crafty, and too wise to put up with the things many in their youth might get distracted by. Also, you will show us the knowledge Sakhr took with him. I don’t expect us to master the knowledge in such a short time, but perhaps the exposure will help us in the coming battle.”
“What do I get out of this?”
“Your life.”
Of course.
Melek said, “You should know your partner appears to still be alive. If you fight with us, you’ll have a better chance of saving him.”
“What makes you think that I care about his well-being?”
“I don’t think. I know he means something to you. You may hide your emotions well from others, but Hubul’s Kiss grants me the ability to read people better than most.”
Hubul’s Kiss? I can almost hear the dirty jokes coming out of Rondel’s mouth.
She sighed, thinking over the offer. He’s right. I know the real Rondel is still there. I saw it before I lost him. He would do it for me if our roles were reversed. Even if he ends up leaving me for that whore, I owe him.
“Fine.”
CHAPTER 16
Without the amulets around his neck, Rondel’s thoughts were no longer cloudy, his actions no longer influenced. By removing the amulets on his own, he had somehow damaged the wards on them.
“Are you going to make more?” he had asked Shadya with dread.
Shadya replied with a simple, “No.”
Athar bound him shortly afterward. He remained that way as they pushed on through Erba under a brutal sun. Air shimmered before his tired eyes as they rode over the dry land, kicking up sand that stuck to his damp clothes.
Gods, I miss the coast already.
He said little on the day’s journey, still feeling weak from his struggle with the amulets. Coupled with the heat of the day, it was all he could do to stay conscious and process thoughts he knew he could trust.
How many stupid decisions have I made lately? Without Andrasta, no telling how much worse it would have been.
Even breaking into the Host’s camp was idiocy, really. Yet, Andrasta did it anyway. And not for Shadya, but for me.
He had grown close to Andrasta, but he didn’t realize how strong their friendship was until then. And she’s dead.
He replayed what he remembered of those last few moments on the beach. Andrasta jumping from the mount to buy him time. The sand and smoky haze of sorcery. Fighting. Screaming. Being kidnapped by a man he had killed days before at the oasis.
I never saw Andrasta die.
He looked over to Shadya who rode beside him. The resurrected man rode up ahead, scouting.
His mouth twisted in anger. Why should I believe them?
“Andrasta isn’t dead.” His unused voice came out more raspy than normal.
Shadya turned slowly. There was no denying the woman’s beauty, but the deep lust he had known before was gone. She tilted her head. “Hmm?”
“Andrasta isn’t dead, is she? You’re just assuming that.”
“If she wasn’t killed on the beach, she was tortured and killed after they questioned her. Hubul’s Host isn’t known for its mercy.”
Rondel studied her. “Again. You don’t know that for sure.”
“I know the amulet I gave her is no longer picking up life.”
“It could have been removed.”
Shadya shrugged. “If it helps you to hang onto that hope, then please do.”
Rondel wanted to rage and yell. He even wanted to strike the woman. But he knew she was likely right. He changed subjects, wanting to take his mind off Andrasta. “I thought I killed him,” Rondel said, nodding to the man riding ahead.
“You did kill the man,” said Shadya.
“Did you use one of your crazy amulets to bring him back from the dead?”
“I could have, but no I didn’t. Using the dead is a very tricky thing. They’re only good for a short period of time as you can’t heal their wounds or stop them from rotting. They aren’t suited for any sort of complicated task.”
Rondel frowned. Even without the amulet, her soft voice reminded him of all their private, heartfelt conversations. He felt his binds, and the nostalgia subsided. “I don’t understand. Who is that riding ahead of us then?”
“I told you already. Athar.”
Realization dawned on him as he realized the camel was not with them. Gods, how did I not notice that? That amulet really screwed up my thoughts. “What is he?”
“A ghul. He’s loyal to the cause.”
Rondel swallowed dread as he remembered coming across several references to ghuls when studying in the library of Zafar. They had always been spoken of negatively, demons with increased physical attributes that could change shape.
They can only change into the shape of things they have eaten. His stomach turned. Disgusting. And all that time I thought Andrasta was being ridiculous with her hate for Athar. I should have let her kill him.
“What cause are you talking about? And what do you want with me? What is a joining? I heard you mention it to Athar.”
“Finally, my love. Those were the questions I expected you to ask first.”
Rondel wanted to say something smart to needle her, but his heart just wasn’t in it.
“The cause that Athar and I are loyal to is seeing Hubul’s son return to greatness. You’re an important piece in the ritual.”
Wheels turned in Rondel’s mind as he recalled the story Fikri told them in Hegra. Shadya had seemed upset by its telling.
“You mean Nasnas?”
“Yes. As he’s now known.” Bitterness hung on her words.
“In Hegra, you hinted that the story Fikri told wasn’t correct.”
“It’s not. Much of it is lies propagated by Hubul and the other gods, jealous of what the son had accomplished on his own and would have done after his ultimate victory. Nasnas planned to raise up the lesser gods and creatures so that all would be equal.”
“I can see why that might upset some. I’m not a fan of any gods in any culture, but I certainly wouldn’t want to share power if I was one.”
“Don’t mock thi
ngs you know nothing about.” Her voice held the slightest of edges.
Rondel kept quiet, knowing what she was capable of.
She cleared her throat. “Hubul’s son also wished to elevate humans. That’s why mortals began to worship him instead of Hubul. Their gratitude in many ways was their undoing.”
“Wait. You’re skipping around like I know the whole story from your perspective. I only know what I’ve read and what Fikri told us.”
“The details of the battle itself and what happened after are likely similar. What the others get wrong is the motivation of the son. The others all speak of Hubul’s kindness and love for his son. For that, they say the son’s life was spared.”
Her mouth twisted. “What really happened is that Hubul was enraged that Nasnas had been crafty and put part of his power into a special mask. By doing so, he could not be destroyed. The mask would return Nasnas’s powers so he could once again wage war on the gods and fight for equality. Hubul banished the son as punishment, making him so deformed that mankind would never trust him again.”
Rondel thought the whole thing sounded like propaganda, a sympathetic story he had heard many times over the years to win more supporters to a made-up cause. He didn’t doubt Nasnas harbored more selfish, secret reasons.
No one ever has completely selfless ambitions.
When Shadya finished the story, she held her head high, face glowing with pride. “What do you think?”
“About which part?”
“All of it. Now that you’ve heard the entire story, don’t you want to be part of something that will aid the oppressed?”
“Not really.”
Shadya scowled.
“Look, every culture has these sorts of stories. No one ever has the full truth. And the other person is always the bad guy. Regardless of what story is being passed around, neither party is as innocent or as evil as portrayed.
Shadya’s scowl deepened, but Rondel continued anyway.
“For example, you’ve got this Nasnas character who, if he was half as smart and powerful as you act like he is, would have done a much better job of planning his battle or simply convinced his father to listen to his points without it even getting to the point of war. Instead, he allowed an entire city, an entire region really, to be destroyed. He essentially killed off the very people he was supposedly trying to protect and elevate. The ones that made up his power base. Yeah, he sounds like a real winner.”
The City of Pillars Page 19
