Whom the Gods Hate (Of Gods & Mortals Book 2)

by M. M. Perry

  “You may ask your questions now, humans. I haven’t the heart to deny you, so take advantage of my generous nature while it lasts,” Manfred said.

  Nat began to feel sorry for the little blue man. He spoke up before the rest of them could.

  “Is something wrong, sir? Have we caused you trouble,” Nat asked, his voice sincere.

  The Djinn looked up at the young man and smirked, “Trouble? Yes and No. But do not think on it.”

  Gunnarr spoke next.

  “I am aware you will likely not answer any questions about those scrolls you were discussing,” he began when Manfred interrupted.

  “Oh, he has brains too, the snow man.”

  Viola could see Manfred’s back straightening, as if he was regaining his composure.

  “I would like to know if you actually plan to help us find Cass, or if this is all just some big game to you,” Gunnarr finished.

  Manfred rubbed his chin again, “I know precisely where she is.”

  Gunnarr clenched his fists in frustration. The blue imp had known all this time and dragged them around this city for his amusement, he thought.

  “Where,” he asked as politely as he could muster, trying not to anger the Djinn.

  “She’s a day’s travel east of the cave of the oracles. Though that won’t really help you. She’s moving fast. Likely soon to take to the sea based on the direction she’s headed,” Manfred said.

  “Maybe you could let her know that we are looking for her?” Viola suggested helpfully.

  “I could, but it would make no difference. She wouldn’t know who you are, or why you are important to her,” the Djinn said thinking.

  “What?” Nat said, surprised, “Surely she can’t of forgotten us.”

  “Don’t be so dense,” Manfred scolded, “The God did it to her. Took away her memories. To try to trick her into giving him something. It’s a strong magic she will not be able to break on her own.”

  Gunnarr felt relief. He had wondered why Cass had not contacted him once she had freed herself from the god. Up until now he had settled on the idea that she was trying to keep them safe. But he could not keep that niggling thought out of his head that she had lost interest in him and felt like travelling alone again. If she had lost her memories, then that was why she had not contacted them.

  “How do you know this?” Nat asked.

  “You might as well ask how a god knows anything,” Manfred huffed. “I focus my mind on her and I know. I’ve met her, so it’s easy for me to do and the knowledge is quite clear. It wouldn’t be so with some stranger I’d never met. It’s how all gods know anything about far off people. It’s a parlor trick of sorts. They pretend omniscience but that’s malarkey.”

  “But they know all about people they’ve never met,” Viola began before Manfred brusquely interrupted.

  “Look, red, they have to meet you. They make you come in person to ask them questions, not some servant, because you are likely going to ask about someone in your immediate circle. Does no one remember the folly of King Harold?”

  Everyone looked at each other blankly.

  “Am I really that old,” Manfred asked himself rubbing his little goatee. “Well never mind then. It doesn’t matter. In any case, I know what has happened to her. Clear as day. Believe me or not. I’ve no reason to trick you.”

  “How would we know that?” Gunnarr asked evenly.

  The little Djinn met Gunnarr’s eyes and he seemed to finally take the full measure of the big man.

  “Well, then, maybe you could take us to her. As a favor?” Nat asked, breaking the silence.

  “I know all about her now, meaning at this particular moment. I know her location, her condition – she’s fine by the way -- her desire to find a clean outhouse… at least while I am here on Xenor. Once I leave, that is another matter. If I leave to take you to her, I will not be able to use this power any longer,” Manfred said.

  “So your power is tied to the continent,” Viola said.

  “In a manner of speaking. I still have power when I leave. But it’s limited and it’s best not to waste it on frivolous things,” Manfred said, examining his nails.

  “Frivolous,” Gunnarr began, his voice rising. Nat stepped over to him and placed his hand on Gunnarr’s shoulder.

  “What we mean to say is, that is why we came here, to find her. It isn’t frivolous to us. She is very important to us,” Nat said diplomatically.

  “Indeed,” Manfred said looking up at them. “She is in fact much more important to me than you know. But that isn’t my point. I can’t waste my powers on pinpointing her location because once we find her there is going to be a much greater demand on my reserves. I’ll have to conserve everything I have if I hope to help her.”

  “To help her regain her memory you mean,” Viola suggested helpfully.

  “Not directly, but in a sense, yes. The how isn’t really important here. We do need to get ready to set out or we’ll miss her. I’m guessing in four days’ time she’ll be docking in Gull’s Landing. We’d better hurry if we want to make that meeting,” Manfred said.

  He stood and straightened his shirt as he headed in the direction of one of the passageways.

  “Oh yes, feel free to eat. It’s going to be four days at sea. Won’t have much time for a feast out there,” Manfred called over his shoulder.

  Just as he said it a sumptuous meal appeared on a low table in the middle of the room. Roasted meats and vegetables were piled high on a central platter with silver plates surrounding it. Sam came strolling down some steps as the group settled in around the table. He looked quite pleased as he took his place next to Viola.

  “See anything of interest?” Nat asked.

  “He has a room full of beautifu…” Sam started to say enthusiastically but then he turned and blushed as he saw Viola.

  “Yes,” he said shoveling food onto his plate. “Many things of interest.”

  “Do you trust him,” Viola asked Gunnarr.

  “I don’t think he means us harm,” Gunnarr said taking a large bite of potato. “but I also suspect helping us is not why he’s coming along. So long as furthering his goals gets us closer to Cass, I see no reason to worry.”

  “What if his goals don’t align with ours,” Viola asked pointedly.

  “Well, I guess we’ll just have to see how frivolous a Djinn can be,” Gunnarr said gripping his sword.

  Chapter 7

  The Djinn snapped his fingers and took them back instantly to their boat after their meal. Manfred was back in his jeweled finery and looking exactly as a Djinn was expected to look, right down to the diamond encrusted silken shoes. He carried only one item with him. A large and extremely heavy steamer trunk. After some difficult maneuvering on the violently swaying dock, Gunnarr and Nat managed to get the trunk on board the ship. Manfred did not offer to help them with it, choosing instead to bark instructions over the railing at them.

  “Get the left side, it’s dipping. The. Left. Side.”

  Gunnarr spared no dirty looks for the little blue man. After they had finally hauled the trunk on board, Manfred ordered Nat to carry it down below deck. Nat had grown stronger over the years, but he still was not strong enough to lug the chest on his own. Gunnarr hoisted himself onto his ship and helped Nat with the trunk.

  “What have you packed in this thing, rocks?” Nat asked as he leaned his head down to wipe his brow on his shoulder.

  Manfred just watched the two men carry his trunk away in silence. After they descended the steps he turned to Viola and leered at her.

  “You’ve not said much since we left my cavern. Feeling seasick my dear? I might be able to help you with that,” Manfred said.

  “I thought you said you weren’t going to use your magic on anything frivolous,” Viola said tersely.

  “First, who said that was a frivolous matter. Second, I haven’t left my home yet, lass,” Manfred said leering at Viola.

  “Ugh,” Viola exclaimed, “I always got the
impression you lot were more charming, at least based on Cass’ story.”

  “The lady Cass had a bit more to drink than you. That is also something I can remedy,” Manfred said pulling a small golden flask from his inside pocket.

  “No thank you,” Viola said.

  She busied herself making sure the boat was ready to sail. Gunnarr and Nat came up from below and Gunnarr went to hoist the anchor. When everything was ready he nodded to Sam and the boat slowly pulled away from the angry dock. Viola truly hoped that was the last she’d ever see of that dock.

  “Why was the dock ever built? There’s no reason to visit,” Viola mused aloud. “And how would they find it anyway. The coastline is massive on Xenor. How would they know where it is?”

  Manfred smirked but kept whatever he was thinking to himself. He made his way below decks while Viola watched his back. He clearly had answers to her query but had no interest in sharing them with her. She wondered if he hoped she would ask him more if he was enigmatic enough.

  “He over-estimates my desire to know,” she said to no one in particular.

  Nat and Gunnarr were working on a large sea map. Nat was holding it down on one corner as Viola approached. The boat rocked violently as they made their way through the unwelcome waters surrounding Xenor. Gunnarr was using several instruments Viola did not recognize and plotting a course of travel. Viola looked closer at the strange map Gunnarr was using. She could see the month printed at the top in thick letters written in an old fashioned style. The map itself was very aged looking, the corners brown and brittle where the waxy protective coating had worn off. Thin lines waved all over the map in between what were clearly the continents of Tanavia.

  Viola watched as Gunnarr traced a line using a chalky substance. He drew right through something that caught Viola’s eye. It was a huge beast in the middle of the water. When she had first seen it she thought it was one of the types of flourishes map makers like to add to their creations. Little pieces of hand drawn art unique to that mapmaker were better than signatures, as they were much more easily identifiable by people who had questionable educations. Viola was particularly fond of the maps King Callan had hanging in his library. The creator who had made those maps liked griffins and each of his maps had been adorned with the beautiful creatures. The images reminded Viola of Cass.

  This creature did not look like a griffin at all, or anything Viola had ever seen. It had fearsome yellow eyes and tentacles that writhed around its body. Not much else could be made out of the creature as the mapmaker had shrouded his image in darkness beneath the tentacles. Viola was about to ask why the mapmaker had chosen something so ominous to put in the middle of his map when Gunnarr looked up with a deep frown.

  “There is no way around it?” Nat asked.

  “No. It would add days to the trip to avoid it.”

  Viola looked back down at the map and realized the beastly image was no artist’s embellishment, but rather a warning. Whatever it was, they would be travelling right through its territory. Viola stared down into the yellow eyes on the map and hoped the creature would sleep right through their passing.

  Cass, Patch and Suman had explored every inch of the giant ship they were aboard. It was the second day at sea and they had three more to go before they reached their destination. Suman had been cagey about revealing too much information about where they were going.

  “Why can’t you just tell us,” Patch asked.

  “I told you. We’re going to Gull’s Port,” Suman said placing a card on the table. “I win.”

  “Again?” Cass sighed frustrated. “Your luck is uncanny.”

  “Luck?” Suman said in mock injury, “My lady, it is not luck. It is skill.”

  They were sitting in the common room where many passengers were milling about. The ship they were on was a passenger liner headed for Arless, the southernmost continent on Tanavia. Suman had used some of his gold to get them all luxury tickets.

  “You suppose that gold disappeared after you bought those tickets?” Cass asked as she dropped her cards in the middle of the table in defeat.

  “More than likely,” Suman said, “hopefully nobody will go punished for it. That would actually bother me quite a bit.”

  “I’m a warrior, right? I should be able to get some coin to pay the captain back. I’ll make sure I do, and with interest, too,” Cass said.

  She yawned and stretched.

  “I think I’ll go to bed. Might as well try to sleep some of the time away on this ship. Don’t bicker too much, fellas.”

  Cass stood and headed off toward the sleeping births. As soon as Cass was out of earshot and eyesight, Patch’s demeanor changed drastically. Patch crossed his arms and glared at Suman who was dealing out the cards.

  “Can’t play God’s Hand with two, but maybe we can play something else if you’re interested,” Suman said cheerfully.

  “Why won’t you tell us anymore about what the oracles told you? Perhaps it’s because they didn’t answer any questions you asked,” Patch taunted.

  Suman set his cards down softly and looked into Patch’s eyes. He held the satyr’s gaze as he spoke evenly.

  “They answered quite a few questions I had actually. You see, I wanted to make sure I got the most out of my precarious situation. I asked them what I needed to do to help her, who I needed to find and just for kicks, who had done this to her,” Suman said.

  Patch began to twitch uncomfortably under Suman’s gaze.

  “They told me that all they could say was it was a god that had done this. Gods are dangerous. I know this. We all do. But they are also deceitful and manipulative. Surely Cass hadn’t escaped a god. I mean, she’s a warrior, yes. But in her condition, how on earth would she escape? I began to wonder why a god would let someone escape, because let’s be honest here, she was let go. And I remembered this strange stone Cass had. When I held it in my hand I felt such power in it. And I have noticed things, for instance, how often a particular satyr stares at the little leather pouch Cass carries this stone in. And how whenever she’s not looking his sunny disposition drops. I know my people haven’t been kind to you, so that’s why you aren’t particularly nice to me. But I also know you goat men aren’t kind to any humans. When I first met you and found out you were helping Cass, I figured you were either a very strange exception, or you were working on something else.”

  Patch felt sweat drip down his neck. He tensed his muscles, unsure of what to do. Satyrs weren’t known for their fighting ability. They were thinkers. And this far out to sea it would be easy for him to be tossed over and not be missed.

  “Out with it, human,” Patch said. He wasn’t fond of the drawing out of a painful reveal.

  “I asked those oracles if someone was untrustworthy in our little group. It took several questions to get the answer out, it was tricky working around the god’s compulsion to keep them silent on the matter of gods. I managed it. I know you are working for the god. I don’t know the name of the god, but it doesn’t matter, does it? I don’t know precisely what you are supposed to do, but that doesn’t matter either. I know you are dangerous. And dangerous things need to be neutralized,” Suman said with finality.

  Patch was sitting in a sunny spot. He enjoyed finding the small warm areas in the dense wood. It wasn’t easy to do with the thick canopy always present overhead. He stretched his thickly padded feet out and curled his toes into the warm dirt. An extremely pleasant sensation passed through him as he felt the warm dirt slide around his horny toenails that were admittedly just a little too long, even for him. The sensation caused the hair on his legs to stand up. It would have frightened most humans to see him so. He had stripped himself of his garments to enjoy the warmth. His dark hairs were thick on his lower body and now stuck out like porcupine quills, though they were much softer than that.

  It was a rare pleasure for him. He not only had to find a treeless spot that had been warmed by the sun for a while, but he had to find an isolated one. He had stumbled upo
n this spot quite by accident. Patch mentally marked it even though he knew he probably wouldn’t be by this way again in a long time. His brothers had settled in the woods around Urgana for the last fifty years or so. He felt they had become complacent, perhaps even content, despite the fact that they still had no idea where their sisters had gone. More importantly, they had stopped searching. The uneasy living arrangements between the humans who lived in Urgana and the satyrs who lived in the woods around the city had become tolerable enough for his people to forget the dangers of staying in one place too long. Patch knew what humans were capable of doing to his people. They still feared satyrs, despite not actively hunting them at the moment. He knew it would only take one lost child for them to turn their accusing fingers toward the strange, hairy men who populated the wood around their city. But Patch found it difficult to convince his brothers of these dangers. After Patch convinced himself he needed to leave, he was shocked to find how hard it was to force himself to take that first step away. There was a subtle reason they all liked the woods around Urgana as if some unseen force was drawing them there.

  He overcame that natural pull because he knew he must. He set out to continue the decade’s long search for his sisters. It was probably a lost cause, but at least it was a cause worth pursuing, even if his only reward would ultimately be failure. His brothers did little of merit, despite all their natural abilities. They trusted the humans too little to help them with advice, so they remained on the outside of a rapidly expanding world of humans that would soon leave little room for hairy men who enjoyed the trees of the forests more than the buildings of the city. At least searching for his sisters, no matter how hopeless it was, was working toward something. Patch enjoyed the feeling of having a goal.

  For now, though, Patch simply enjoyed a moment of peace in the sun.

  He felt the coolness of a shadow before he opened his eyes. He did not hear the man approach, which he immediately knew meant trouble. No human could approach quietly enough to take a satyr unawares. He wasn’t sure what he expected to see when his eyes adjusted to the bright light, but he knew it would be inhuman. When he finally focused on the man looking down at him, he grimaced uncontrollably. It was the gods who cursed his kind to be forever parted from their other halves. He was never pleased to see one. But that was not the only reason Patch grimaced. When a god came calling, it always meant trouble.