by M. M. Perry
“I could say the same about you,” Kali said.
Suman smiled ruefully, eyes drifting into the sky, as if remembering something. He focused his gaze back down at Kali.
“I have one more request of you. Have lunch with me. We can share stories. It’s been forever well, actually, six and a half years, but who’s counting, well, I guess if anyone would be counting days it would be people who have a set amount of days to live… ye gods I’m awful at this. What I’m asking is, stay, just a little while longer,” Suman said.
“Lunch,” Kali said looking at the mobile again, “okay, I can do that.”
Suman, it turned out, was an excellent dining companion. The conversation was lively and never fell into uncomfortable silence. The food, as was everything in the strange city, was perfect.
“So, your name is Kali? It doesn’t seem to suit you for some reason. I can’t put my finger on it,” Suman said taking a drink of red wine.
Kali looked at Suman’s strangely perceptive eyes. She shrugged, deciding to tell him. He seemed honest to her, more so than Patch had.
“I don’t know that it is my name. It was given to me by someone I am currently travelling with.”
Suman looked at Kali askance, puzzlement in his eyes. Kali went on.
“I can’t remember who I am. I can remember that I live on Tanavia, how to speak, that wearing clothes is optimal in public settings…”
“I think maybe you got a bit mixed up on that last one,” Suman said mischievously.
Kali raised an eyebrow at him and he laughed.
“Ah, to have someone who responds to my flirting, even to rebuff it, you can never overestimate what you’ve done for me today,” Suman said happily. Then his face straightened again.
“So you remember nothing? Is it the work of gods then?”
“My companion seems to think so. He also has suggested it has to do with this,” Kali said while taking the amber stone from a pocket. She started to offer it to Suman before she remembered what Patch had said. Before she could change her actions, Suman had grabbed it from her.
For several tense seconds Kali worried he might look up at her and ask her who she was, but instead he just gazed at the stone carefully. She sighed, relieved. Suman held the stone up to the light. As the sun hit it, the whole room lit up as if there were no roof over their heads at all. Suman’s eyes opened wide.
“How lovely! I can sense it has something hidden within it. This is not the natural property of amber, I should know, I’ve worked some into my mobile and I would have worked so much more in if it all did this. But… you think it has caused your memory loss?”
Suman held the stone back out to her and she took it back, examining it herself for the hundredth time.
“Patch does. I don’t know. All I remember is being frightened, running away and then being in the woods.”
“So you are looking for answers,” Suman said.
“Yes.”
“Well, then that settles it. You are a damsel in distress. I am a man with no discernible heroic qualities whatsoever. But, I make excellent comic relief. I shall join you,” Suman said as he stood up.
Kali watched as the handsome man strode over to a closet and pulled out a warm cloak, a wide brimmed hat with a long decorative feather and a huge pack. He opened the pack and smiled.
“On occasion, I still find ways to love the Golden City,” he said.
Kali looked confused and Suman walked over to her and showed her the contents of the pack. It was filled with dried goods and emergency supplies, enough for a very long trip.
“Won’t it disappear when you leave here?” she asked.
Suman fingered the golden collar around his neck.
“I’ve made the contract. There is nothing that says I need to remain in the city. In fact, while I’ve been here there have been a couple people who decided to stay elsewhere until the city claimed them. I still won’t be able to be killed out there until my time is up. But no matter where I go, when my time is up, it’s up. I should be able to share with you even if you haven’t made the pact with the city. But on that front, I am not sure.”
Kali stood and put her hands on his shoulders.
“Are you sure you want to come?”
“I know, I’d be leaving all this behind,” Suman said in a mock rueful voice.
“Why didn’t you leave before?” Kali asked.
Suman shrugged, this time his voice genuinely sorrowful, “I had nowhere to go.”
“Well, then I’d be happy to have you. Though I can’t promise anything eventful. I don’t even know what I’m looking for,” Kali said moving to the front door.
“We could try taking you to the Oracles,” Suman said helpfully. “I mean, I know they’re going to try to eat us, but, it’s a plan. And since they generally know what’s what, it would be where I would start in any case.”
“Oracles are very dangerous. And fickle.” Kali said.
“Yes. They tend to kill those who ask them things. Randomly. But… I can’t be killed. Not yet anyway. So we have a trick up our sleeve, eh?” Suman said winking.
“I guess we do,” Kali said.
They stepped outside into the sunlight and waited for their eyes to adjust. The day was warm and Kali enjoyed the feeling of it. With Suman helping her now, her spirits were lifted. She was grateful for what Patch was doing, but she couldn’t quite escape the feeling he was doing it for some underhanded motive. He had some angle in helping her. She wanted to believe him and trust him, she had no reason to distrust him so far, but unlike Suman, who she trusted immediately, Patch continued to make her feel wary.
“All these houses look the same,” Kali said looking around, “I think the one we were staying in was somewhere over there.”
As Kali pointed to the other end of the village, Patch came into view. When he saw Kali he waved her over.
“That’s who you’re traveling with?” Suman asked placing a hand on Kali’s arm.
“Yes, why?”
“He’s a satyr. Nothing inherently evil with them or anything, but it’s strange to see him helping you. You aren’t a nymph by any chance, are you?” Suman asked.
“Not to my knowledge, but I’ve never seen one and I can’t remember who I am, so I suppose it’s possible. Though I think of myself as human, in my mind anyway. I haven’t forgotten that much. At least I don’t think I have.”
“Well, if you were a nymph, he would do anything for you. But since you aren’t, it’s just… weird. Satyrs don’t really like humans. At all. And in my village they are not trusted,” Suman said.
Patch began walking toward them as Kali whispered back to Suman.
“Why not?”
“They are pawns for the taking. Smart and intelligent as they are, they really would do anything to be reunited with the nymphs. People… and the gods, use that to their advantage. Promise them information about where the last remaining nymphs might be, and they’ll murder their brothers over it. I mean,” Suman said fidgeting, “that’s what people say of course. I’ve only ever seen them around the village when I was young. They live in the forest around there.”
“How do you know he is a satyr? He looks like a man to me,” Kali asked.
“Probably from growing up around them. My people can spot them immediately. We’re taught to. As I said, my people do not trust them, but they live all around us. We are taught to stay away.”
Patch got within hearing distance and Kali smiled at him.
“We have a new friend to help us on our… well, I guess my quest to find out who I am. In fact, if you want to go on your way, I hold you to no promise. I would of course, like to thank you properly somehow, should you decide to leave now. Repay you in some way for your kindness,” Kali said.
Patch looked at Suman. For a moment their eyes locked, each understanding the other as a wary male beast sizing up the competition.
“No, Kali, I shall stay with you to the end. I’ve no pressing matters. I’m mere
ly a traveling satyr, searching for my lost sisters. I see no reason traveling with you will lead me further from them, in fact, you may be good luck. As I first said when I saw you, I thought you were a nymph. Maybe you yet are. It seems endless since I have even heard of them, let alone seen them, I have long thought I would not recognize them if I did see them,” Patch said.
The truth in these words startled both Kali and Suman. Kali had expected Patch to continue keeping his secrets.
“Why did you not tell me this before?” Kali asked.
“It didn’t seem pertinent to your quest. If you were a nymph, my meager guesses at where your people were would only serve to confuse you further. If I could have found my sisters, I would have long ago. I was hoping instinct might take over, and I may finally find my way home again. I’m sorry if my secrecy has cost you in any way,” Patch said, sincerity filling his voice.
Kali tilted her head and nodded.
“Well, Suman,” she said gesturing to their new travelling companion, “has a pretty good idea. We should ask an oracle.”
Patch’s eyes widened as he took in Suman again.
“You might have gone mad staying here so long,” he said glancing at the golden collar around Suman’s neck.
Suman chuckled, “Yes, but not in the way you might think. I know, the oracles eat everyone. But I cannot be killed. Not until Midassa is ready to take me. And then I am killed in the manner he wishes. I am his now. I think this should prove useful when I ask the oracle my question.”
Patch scratched his chin, thinking. He pursed his lips and a small grin twitched up the corner of his mouth.
“You just might have something there, human.”
Chapter 4
Gunnarr sat in a circle on the deck of the boat with Nat, Viola and Sam. Sam seemed unusually surly this morning. They had all slept fitfully after the visit with Issa, each for their own reasons. The small meal they had shared in the early hours of dawn was sitting uneasily in Gunnarr’s gut. He rubbed his stomach absently as he thought hard about where they had to go next. He had not spoken to the others about what Issa had said, unsure of what they had all heard.
Instead of rehashing the conversation he’d had with their quasi ally, Gunnarr focused his attention on Sam.
“How did you know there was a god on deck?” he asked sternly.
Sam, expecting this would be the giant Braldashad’s first line of inquiry crossed his arms and looked out to sea.
“I’m old, you git. You don’t get to be this old while making your living fishing the Desert without learning a thing or two. I’ve been around. I know what a god smells like. I’ve lost too many fellow sailors not to recognize that stench,” Sam said bitterly.
“Stench,” Viola inquired.
“Yes, stench. It might be too subtle for your noses, but it’s there. An undercurrent of something sweet smelling. Might even smell good to ya, if ya haven’t smelled it when they are really working up a sweat. But get one o’ them dirty bastards throwing their weight around, magicking up the place, and you smell it real good. A strong, sickening, sweet smell. The smell of death if it thought it could fool you into thinking it was pleasant. But death don’t know pleasant, so all it can do is fake it. And that’s what they smell like,” Sam scowled.
“Gods smell of pleasant death. Lovely,” Viola muttered.
“You joke,” Sam growled in a low voice, “but I’m not the one befriending the likes of those piles of dung. It’s you lot think you can parlay with the beasts. I’ll take you to Xenor, but I will take my leave then. I have no interest in travelling with people who fraternize with gods. I don’t care what threats the king makes. It ain’t worth the pain those monsters will rain down on me and mine if they find out I assisted you. You,” he said pointing a shaky finger at the group, “don’t know the game yer playing.”
He got up and stomped off toward the crew quarters. Nat made to get up and go after him, but Gunnarr held him back.
“He is right. About everything. Once we find the Djinn, if you wish to head back to Faylendar, you are more than welcome to,” he said.
He was facing Viola knowing full well Nat had taken the warrior’s oath long ago and would never leave a quest unfinished. Viola had done no such thing. Her talents as an enchanter had long since waned. She had no great strength or agility, not that those things were required of warriors, but they sure tipped the scales in their favor when it came to battling the beasts of the wild.
“When I wanted to leave the Village of Light, it was Cass that made that possible. Had it been up to the king, he would have chosen someone less risky, someone who had years of their ability left. Cass took a huge risk choosing me. She was fair and kind to me when I needed it most. I will not abandon her. I’m sure there is something I can do to help. If I am a burden to you, I trust you will let me know, and I’ll do the best thing and head home. But until then, I will stay,” Viola said firmly.
Gunnarr nodded. He thought for a moment before speaking.
“Is there anything more you can tell us about the Djinn?”
“Nothing solid. There are a lot of tales about them. As with all these tales, it’s hard to separate myth from reality. Based on my studies, there are a few recurring themes that might help us out,” Viola began.
“It seems they were once mortal men, just like any other people,” she said.
“So they didn’t always have these god like powers?” Nat asked.
“No,” Viola said leaning back, her elbows on the warm wooden deck.
“While the stories vary greatly on their powers and how they behaved once they became Djinn, most of the old stories say the same thing about what they once were. It isn’t easy to find these tales. I sent messengers all over Tanavia digging up old tomes from libraries for me. Callan really was generous with his money and resources on this. Most of the stories focus on what the Djinn have done since, but even those are fairly rare. Djinn keep to themselves it seems. They don’t travel and don’t mingle with humans very often. But the few tomes that talk about their creation speak of old days, when Xenor was lush with life, and not the barren rock that it is now.”
Gunnarr looked skeptical at this.
“Cass told me of Xenor. She said she not know how it would be possible for anything to grow there. She’d seen plants and animals crop up from mountains, desserts, and the most brackish sea. But she said the stone that makes up Xenor is the blackest, most lifeless stone she’d ever seen.”
“I don’t doubt it. All my readings suggest as much, and in fact scholars who have studied Xenor say they believe nothing will ever grow there in all eternity, not after what was done to it. But I’m jumping forward. Let’s just assume, as unlikely it seems at the moment, that Xenor was once lush and beautiful. It was said the women of Xenor were coveted the world over for their beauty and grace.
“The stories say Xenor had more to offer its inhabitants in natural riches than all the other continents combined, despite its small size. These old stories are probably what keeps the rumors alive that Xenor has some secret treasure under all that lifeless rock. This was very long ago, before the war between the old and the new gods.
“The men of Xenor grew rich and fat off their lands. Their money and goods translated to great power throughout the lands of Tanavia. But despite this, they grew complacent with their lot in life. They began to envy the gods. They sought out Apsos and asked him to grant them the power of the gods. They pleaded with Apsos, saying they had experienced all there was in mortal life, they had seen all there was to see. Apsos, curiously, did not immediately turn them away, perhaps seeing something of interest for himself. He first suggested they become followers of Morte, that if they had explored all there was to life, perhaps they should discover all there is to death.
“The men of Xenor passionately plead their case, saying death held no interest for them. Apsos told them he could not create gods from nothing. But, Apsos being the god of creation loved a challenge. He saw a way he could
make the men of Xenor powerful, but it would take much. He explained to the men the cost would be very great, but they waved away further explanation. They were not interested in the costs, only the outcome.
“So Apsos did as they asked. They were unconscious for a long time. They did not know how long it was, but it was many, many days. When Apsos was done they awoke. And they did indeed have powers that many say rivaled even those of the gods. However, they awoke to a wasteland. What was once lush and green was now barren of all life. Trees, grass, animals, the minerals in the ground, the water in their streams… even their own women, all were gone, used up to create the power that would be theirs. When they turned to look at each other, they saw something else was taken as well. Their own humanity. Small and blue, a strange mockery of men was what they saw. When they looked to speak with Apsos again he said simply, ‘You cannot create something from nothing. I told you of the costs. You are now gods. I have done as you asked.’
“And then he was gone, and the Djinn were born.” Viola said.
Gunnarr took all this in before he asked another question.
“And are they? Gods?”
Viola shook her head, “the scholars are unsure. Their powers have never been tested against other gods to know whether or not they are as powerful. And as far as most people know, they don’t use their powers against humans either. I found a story that said the Djinn never used their power, hoping one day Apsos would return and be able to take it back, worried that if they used it the change would be irreversible. But that was only one story, and so many stories talk about the Djinn’s powers. No two stories are alike. One says they create the storms in the Desert Sea to dredge up their favorite dinner from the deep. Another says they created a cave full of life deep within Xenor where they have lived in solitude and reflection on what they have done. Some stories speak of them as if they are evil, others that they are pranksters...it really is hard to say.”
“Well, we know one thing if those early creation stories are true,” Nat said helpfully.
