by Kel Kade
Magdelay rolled her eyes. “All you had to do was apologize.”
Aaslo turned to Teza. “You only had to apologize, and you could go back to the academy?”
Teza balled her fists. “I had nothing to apologize for!” She pointed at Magdelay. “They were in the wrong, just as they are now.”
Magdelay sighed and called out, “Come, Gertridina. It seems I’ll need your assistance after all.”
A young woman Teza’s age stepped into the stable. With her chestnut hair and rosy cheeks, she had a prim, bookish look. Her voice was soft and reserved as she said, “Hello, Teza.”
“You!” said Teza in outrage. “How can you even face me? I told you I never wanted to see you again!”
Gertridina blinked at Magdelay for encouragement, then looked back to Teza. “I’m sorry, Teza. Nothing happened the way it should have. It was all a big mistake.”
“You’re right it was a mistake. It was a mistake to ever think you were my friend.” Teza pointed at Gertridina as she turned to Aaslo. “She was my best friend, my only friend, and she betrayed me.”
“I thought you stole her project,” said Aaslo.
“I did, but it was only because she wouldn’t help me.”
“That’s not fair,” said Gertridina.
“It’s true,” said Teza, turning back to her. “I asked you for help. You knew I was struggling to come up with an idea. You said you were too busy to help me!”
“I was.”
“You knew I couldn’t do it on my own. Instead of helping me to think of something, you did two projects, and left me with none.”
“I didn’t think the first would get me a superior rating, so I tried for a better one. You know how strict my parents are about my ratings.”
Teza appeared furious, and tears began to fill her eyes. “I know it was wrong to steal your work, and I knew you’d be upset with me, but I thought you’d understand. I thought we could work it out between us, but you reported me. You got me expelled!”
“I didn’t mean to,” said Gertridina. “Really, Teza. I saw the project sitting there, and I was surprised. I blurted out that it was mine. Wizard Tofrey just happened to be standing next to me at the time.”
Aaslo said, “If you knew what you did was wrong, why didn’t you just apologize?”
She pointed at Magdelay. “Because they care more about their rules and ratings than about the students. Nobody liked me. The instructors wouldn’t help. They were just waiting for me to fail. They didn’t care if I could become a good healer.” She looked at Gertridina. “They’re paltry and superficial.” She looked back at him. “Even now, they have powers that could shape the world, possibly even save it, but they’re running off to hide in another realm, leaving their fellow human beings to die. I won’t do it! I’m not like them.”
She turned back to Magdelay and gripped Aaslo’s hand as she spoke. “Aaslo intends to fight this. I know he will because he’s a good man, and he knows what it means to be a friend. Now he’s my friend, and I’m staying to help him because that’s what friends do.”
Gertridina stepped forward. “Please, Teza. You’ll die.”
Teza lifted her chin again. “Then I’ll die doing something worth dying for.”
Tears spilled from Gertridina’s eyes as she looked to Magdelay for help. Magdelay was staring at Aaslo, though. She said, “How do you do it? You inspire such strength of bond. Truthfully, I think Mathias expected that you would follow him. I don’t think he would have left otherwise.”
“Mathias would have done what was necessary,” said Aaslo, “a trait that none of you apparently share.”
“You have never spoken such harsh words,” she said. “It’s not like you.”
“You have never left the world to die,” he replied.
Magdelay shook her head. “I knew this would be difficult and disappointing, but I had hoped we could part on better terms.”
“Then don’t.”
“I must. If all that we can save is ourselves, a small population of the human race, then it is my duty as high sorceress to see that it is done.”
“Well, it’s not my duty to save the human race. It was Mathias’s, but he’s dead because you failed to protect him.” He hefted the sack and said, “I carry his burden because no one else will, but it is you who will be crushed under its weight.”
Magdelay nodded sadly. “I think you are right, Aaslo. I wish I had some token to give you to aid you in your quest, but I’m afraid nothing will suffice.”
He said, “You don’t know what will suffice until it’s been tried.”
She looked troubled, and he could tell she was struggling with a decision. Finally, she said, “I would never suggest this to anyone under normal circumstances. In fact, it is forbidden.” She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “The magi are not the only beings with power in this world. There are those called the fae.”
“I’ve heard of the fae. People think foresters are fae,” he said with disgust.
“The fae are real,” she said. “They were here long before humans. Their power is mysterious. It’s wonderful and terrible and far beyond our comprehension. The fae will know of the prophecy. Perhaps you can convince them to help. Be warned, though. Seeking them out, making deals with them, is forbidden because there are always consequences. Usually, the prize is not worth the price, but we’re talking about the death of everything. I cannot see how it could get worse.”
“High Sorceress?” Teza said hesitantly.
“Yes?” said Magdelay, turning to her.
“Would you tell my parents I’m sorry? Tell them I’m sorry for disappointing them.”
Magdelay shook her head. “I know your mother, Catriateza. She’ll be devastated.”
“Ha! Not likely. If she was so worried, she would be here beside you.”
Magdelay looked at her sadly and said, “I hope, with time, she’ll be proud of the woman you’ve become. You’re more like her than you know. If not for your siblings, I believe she’d stay too.” She glanced at Aaslo, then returned her gaze to Teza. “You could not have chosen a better friend.”
The high sorceress stepped forward, placed her hands on either side of Aaslo’s face, and kissed his forehead, as she had so many times when he was a child. She said, “I know you’re angry with me, but know that I love you as I loved Mathias. You are the sons I never had. I wish I had told him that. My family is bigger than us, though, and I must see to their safety. Give your father my regards if you see him again.”
Aaslo gripped her hand as he pulled it away and swallowed a lump in his throat. He couldn’t seem to clear the blockage, so he nodded. He knew the pain he felt wasn’t just for the loss of the world or from the loss of the only mother figure he had known, but also for the fact that she was probably right. It was selfish and cowardly of the magi to leave, but it might be the only chance for the survival of their species. He was angry and envious that they had the option to leave and a place of refuge awaiting them.
He said, “For what it’s worth, Magdelay, I wish you well in the other realm. Does it have trees?”
She smiled and reached into her pocket before placing a smooth, black lump in his hand. “More than you can imagine,” she said. “And some of them talk.” He glanced up from the seed to judge if she was kidding, but she looked sincere. She said, “Perhaps someday we’ll learn to speak their language.” She and Gertridina then stepped into the first sunlight Aaslo had seen in days and left the stable. The latter was heaving with great sobs.
Teza abruptly led her donkey from the stable and mounted. Aaslo followed with Dolt and the pack mule. He looked up to see tears streaming down Teza’s cheeks. “Teza?”
She wiped her face with her sleeve and said, “I don’t want to talk about it. Let’s go.”
“All right,” he said as he mounted, then paused. He had no idea where to go.
“Well, where to?” said Teza.
“I guess we go to Ruriton.”
“
Why Ruriton?”
“Because it’s the only place I know that we might find help.”
CHAPTER 18
Myropa’s frozen heart ached with the cold. She cursed the Fates for forcing her into this role. She hated watching the forester’s heart get broken again, and she knew it would happen over and over as the world died around him until he, too, succumbed to the dark prophecy. Although she didn’t care much for the young woman, she admired her strength and appreciated that she chose to stand with Aaslo. Were the Fates being merciful in lending him a companion, or was it a sadistic plot to exact a toll for his refusal to submit? What pain could they impress if he had nothing to lose?
She followed them out of the stable and watched as they took the road leading southwest, toward Ruriton. Since she knew where they were heading, she took the opportunity to report to Trostili. She found him in his home in the fifth palace. The furniture had been moved to the sides in one of his rooms, and he was swinging a strange weapon comprised of a curved metal shaft, half of which was lined with rows of blades that looked like fish fins. He performed several maneuvers with the frightening weapon before stopping to admire it.
“Hmm, I must decide who will be inspired to invent this. It needs a vicious name. What do you think, Arayallen? Which world is best suited for this weapon—Myrellis or Poupilon?”
Arayallen frowned. “If you put that thing on Myrellis, everyone will be dead after the first battle.”
“Good point. Poupilon it is.” His expression brightened. “It will give the Nodics a fighting chance against those wretched creatures you put there—the big, grey, hairy things.”
“They’re called do’undigas,” said Arayallen, looking up from the book she was reading, “and I’m not sure even that thing will bring one down.”
Trostili grinned fiendishly. “It will be so much fun watching them try.”
Myropa stood waiting patiently as the two bantered back and forth about whether Arayallen’s creatures or Trostili’s weapons would prevail. He seemed to revel in the competition, but she supposed such was his prerogative as God of War.
Arayallen glanced toward Myropa, and without the slightest acknowledgment said, “Your pet is here, Trostili. Do send her away quickly, please. I’ve invited Barbach over to discuss his role in the design of the new world—or the lack of it, hopefully.”
Trostili tossed the magnificent weapon aside as if it were a rotting stick and strode over to sit beside Arayallen. He said, “Without Barbach’s influence your creatures will never do anything. Without desire, ambition, drive, your creations will be the most boring in all the worlds.”
“I’m not planning to ban him completely,” she said. “I just want him to use a bit of restraint.”
“Restraint is antithetical to his nature. He’s the God of Desire, or does that concept escape you?”
“Don’t patronize me, Trostili. I understand his power better than you. The only desire you understand is the want for destruction.”
Trostili abruptly wrapped his arms around Arayallen and dragged her into his lap. “Not true, my dear.” With a stroke of his finger across her collarbone, he said, “I’ll be glad to show you the many kinds of desire I understand.”
Arayallen giggled as she slapped at his chest. Her gaze slid sideways toward Myropa, and she grinned. “Perhaps you could demonstrate on your pet.”
Trostili finally looked at Myropa and frowned. “The reaper? Why would I want that?”
Arayallen shrugged and stroked his strong jaw. “Oh, you don’t like her? Disevy is enchanted, it seems. He has placed a statue of her likeness in his entryway.”
Myropa’s icy blood rushed through her veins. She had thought the statue looked familiar, but it had been a very long time since she had seen her own reflection.
Trostili furrowed his brow and studied Myropa again. She shifted uncomfortably under the scrutiny. He looked back to Arayallen. “Really? Disevy?”
She ran a finger over his lips. “Mm-hmm. He appreciates my work. Why do you insist on destroying it?”
It looked as though Trostili was about to argue the point when a chime rang through the air. Trostili picked Arayallen up with one strong arm and settled her back on her seat as he stood. He said, “That would be Axus. We have a standing engagement to discuss the war on Aldrea.”
“What?” Arayallen shouted. “What of Barbach? You know they can’t be in the same realm together, much less the same room.”
“Then it seems we have an embarrassing conflict of schedule.” He flicked his fingers through the air and said, “Enter!”
Myropa shivered as the God of Death stepped through the portal. He was a monstrous being of impeccable beauty. His dark skin covered taut muscle over a slender frame. The light reflecting off his flesh glistened like gold, as did his hazel eyes. His slick black hair was replete with amber highlights that would make the vainest lady envious. He wore a wrap made from the pelts of several spotted cats. It was wrapped around his waist and then over one shoulder so that one of the beasts’ heads rested over his chest.
He met Myropa’s wanting gaze for the briefest moment, and she once again knew the delicious desire that had driven her to seek her mortality prematurely. In his gaze was a promise—the end of pain, the sweet release from guilt, the escape from the agony of failure, the acceptance of loss and hope for another chance—
“Stop it, Axus,” snapped Arayallen.
Myropa was abruptly dumped from the pit of despair she had found in Axus’s knowing gaze. She inhaled several unnecessary, deep breaths to steady her nerves, which felt as if they were crackling with frost.
“You know I hate it when you use your power on one of my creatures in my presence,” said the goddess. “And are those my ocelots you’re wearing?”
Axus’s attention snapped toward Arayallen. “That is the problem with the rest of you. You always act as though my power is less deserving just because it interferes with your petty plans for your toys.”
Arayallen sidled up to him. “If we didn’t make our toys, you wouldn’t have anything to break!”
“And such a joy it is,” Axus said, but his expression held no joy. In fact, the only time Myropa had seen any expression but apathy on Axus’s face was when he was convincing her that his power was the only cure for her destitution. He said, “If you don’t want them to be so susceptible to my power, perhaps you should make them stronger. Oh, that’s right. You don’t know how.”
Arayallen said, “It’s not a matter of not knowing how, Axus, but rather the fact that we recognize a need for your power if our creatures are ever to progress.”
“Yet you are all thieves, limiting my power with endless restrictions, and the noose continues to get tighter.”
Arayallen shrugged. “It’s your own fault. You don’t know how to restrain yourself, so we must do it for you.”
“You had no right to withdraw my access to the Sea,” he snapped. He pointed to Myropa and said, “You ripped away a piece of my power and divvied it up to these weak atrocities.”
“You should never have claimed so much power in the first place,” Arayallen said. “Dozens of us pour our power into making these creatures and the worlds in which they live, yet only you gain power through their deaths.”
Axus waved a hand toward Trostili, who had so far seemed pleased to sit back and watch the conflict. He said, “That was why you all created him, isn’t it? You let him steal away some of my power before I can even claim it.”
“It’s not your power, Axus,” said Arayallen. “Just because you decided you wanted it doesn’t make it yours.”
“No one else came up with a solution. The rest of you created and created, throwing away power, and none of that power was returned. It was I who discovered the power released during a soul’s crossing of the veil. It was I who learned to capture it and thus gain power through death.”
“You were not the first god to think of destruction.”
“No, but what about your precious cr
eatures—the ones that were living forever—like gods. How did you expect to get that power back? You didn’t have a plan. I came up with a solution. You should be thanking me.”
Arayallen leaned into Axus’s face, and Myropa envied her that she was not affected by his power. “The problem is not that you found a way to reclaim the power but that you refused to give it back! That is why we took away your access to the Sea, and don’t forget that we all made the sacrifice. We couldn’t take away your access without also giving up our own. Thus, we need the reapers. Without them, the souls wouldn’t make it back, and we would grow weak. The Sea empowers us all.”
As Arayallen turned from Axus, she met Myropa’s gaze so briefly that she wasn’t sure it had been intentional. Somehow, she felt like Arayallen wanted her to understand something, and she did—much more than before. Myropa began to wonder if hers was not just a position of servitude but perhaps one of power. The thought had only just formed when she caught Trostili looking at her intently. It felt as if her heart stopped when she once again wondered if the gods could hear her thoughts.
Without regard for Axus and Arayallen, Trostili said, “Reaper, why did you come here?”
Axus and Arayallen abruptly ceased their quibbling and looked at her.
Myropa felt herself shivering and swallowed to clear her throat. She looked at Trostili and said, “I came to report on recent events.”
He narrowed his gaze at her, then threw his arms over the back of the settee on which he lounged. “Very well, report.”
Myropa glanced at Axus and Arayallen, then back to Trostili. She wasn’t sure how much she was supposed to say to each of them. She decided to speak truth and let them sort it out. “The magi have escaped the realm.”
Trostili glanced at his viewing pool and leaned forward. “Interesting. Where did they go?”
Axus turned to Trostili with a frown. “You expect me to believe you haven’t been watching?”
Trostili spread his hands, then motioned to the discarded weapon on the floor. “I’ve been busy with other things.”
