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

by M. M. Perry

  He sat up, not bothering to cover his manhood. This god would not care how the satyr was attired. The god was barely covered himself. His long tresses looked to be constantly shifting in color, as if trying to seek out what was most pleasing to Patch’s eyes. Patch knew who this god was now, he knew as he stared, transfixed at the hair that could not settle on a shade. He also knew the hair would not stop shifting. Patch could not be seduced by the likes of a god. Patch, though outwardly a man, had no real sex to speak of. It was an illusion. He was half of a whole, and it amused the gods to make each half a separate sex. It was just one more insult rendered onto his peoples in a fit of jealousy and rage.

  When patch met the violet eyes, he clenched his hands in the dirt, clinging to the warmth there. He had a feeling it would be a long time before he felt it again; he clutched it in his hands, trying to keep the memory of it fresh within him. If the god wished to kill Patch, it would have, he knew that. What the god wanted was worse, Patch thought. Oshia needed him to do something.

  “You let yourselves get so filthy. Your sisters would be ashamed,” Oshia said.

  His voice was like a fish flitting through water. Oshia’s voice was multi-tiered—tones swam around so much you couldn’t quite tell if it was a man or a woman speaking to you. But the sound was pleasant, nevertheless. Patch was unaffected by it. He kept quiet. He wasn’t afraid of dying really. His biggest fear was never finding his other half. But he did not relish the idea of pain, and gods had developed a not undeserved reputation for being very, very good and perhaps even a touch overenthusiastic when it came to dealing out pain.

  Oshia continued, unconcerned at the lack of response from the satyr.

  “You are clever things. You will be a good choice. Outwardly harmless looking, but clever enough to procure for me something I want.”

  Patch still did not speak. There was no turning down a god. You did what they asked. The consequences of not doing so were unspeakable. He thought of his brother, Stitch. Stitch spoke no more. He lived in a small cave in the woods on northern Ledina. Scarred and naked, Patch knew his brother still ate worms and dug his own grave each night, hoping he had the strength to kill himself so he might forget his tortures. He was never able to do it. Patch had watched over him for two years before he realized Stitch was never going to be the same again. Those were the consequences of saying no to a god.

  “I’ve lost something important to me,” Oshia continued. “A gem. Amber in color. The woman who has it stole it from me. You need to get it back for me. You cannot take it from her. It will only make its way back to her if you do. She must give it to you. Then you can give it to me. She does not remember anything about her past, including where she got the gem. Perhaps you can use this to your advantage. Get her to trust you. I’m confident you’ll find a way to get it done.”

  “Surely,” Patch said, his voice steady, “a god would be better at such a job. If she remembers nothing, then with all your powers, you could convince her to give it back to you.”

  Oshia glared, but not at Patch.

  “Believe me, little beast, I am disgusted that I have to rely on you for this. My powers do not work on her. At least not those ones. I could make her forget most everything, but I cannot seduce her as I would other humans. It is a curiosity that had me enthralled with her for a time. And despite all the times I wiped her memories, many, many times… I tried to convince her to give me the gem. She has an inherent distrust of me. Even if she doesn’t remember who I am, there is an instinct in her. She probably has something of an immortal in her bloodline going back ages. Perhaps her great grandmother was raped by a satyr?” Oshia grinned down at Patch enjoying his little dig. Patch simply remained quiet. Inside he seethed, but he kept his temper well.

  Oshia prattled on, seemingly enjoying the sound of his own voice as he spoke.

  “She will be destroyed when this is done so she threatens me no longer. I cannot do it now. If I do, the gem will go to another. She cannot die. That is imperative.”

  Oshia’s eyes flashed as he spoke these words. Patch nodded dutifully.

  “At least,” Oshia twirled his hair, thinking as he spoke, “At least until you have the gem. Then if death befalls her I wouldn’t be unhappy.”

  “Where is she now,” Patch asked, unable to keep the begrudging tone out of his voice.

  Oshia did not fail to hear the satyr’s reluctance.

  “In a cave, just north of here. You’ll find it easy enough. She’s got a fire in there and I know your nose is quite good. And satyr, I don’t have to give you incentive to do this thing for me. That you well know. But as I am a kind and giving god, I shall give you something to look forward to when you complete this task. I will take you to your sisters. I will show you where the nymphs have gone.”

  Patch’s eyes widened. Thoughts flooded his mind. The god must be desperate for the gem. Gods never gave you anything in return for their demands. The nymphs, he would finally see them again. Oshia was tricking him somehow. The nymphs were dead, Oshia would kill him when he completed this task. All these thoughts ran round and round Patch’s head. He said all he could to please the god.

  “I shall make haste, then. But first, if the gem cannot be stolen, but only given, however did she get it from you? You claim she stole it.”

  Oshia’s face blazed red in anger and embarrassment. Patch held up his hands and quickly added.

  “I only ask because perhaps it is a trick I can repeat? I can use her own ruse against her.”

  Oshia visibly calmed. He brushed at some invisible dirt on his bare arm.

  “I’m afraid you wouldn’t be able to repeat that. She does not have any interest in impressing people. Humility is such a feckless trait. I gave it to her as I told the story of the foe I vanquished. It quite slipped my mind that I wouldn’t be able to get it back unless she offered to return it to me. I was in the midst of illustrating my power over even the other gods. And there you have it. I only tell you in case it’s possible it will help you on your quest, though I doubt it. I will kill you, of course, if you relay this story to anyone else. And it won’t be a quick death, I assure you.”

  Oshia disappeared with no further explanation. Patch sighed heavily. He had the intense feeling that this was not to be an easy task.

  “So what do you plan to do with me now that you discovered my treachery?” Patch asked, resigned to whatever fate awaited him. He felt powerless to do anything at this point. If Oshia had no interest in saving him, then he was at Suman’s mercy. Suman could not be killed. He was still protected by Midassa. Patch imagined that even if he should pull a knife on the human, the blade would somehow be turned back on him.

  “If I were a god I’d probably kill you. That’s what gods do. They kill people. Not really worth aligning yourself to that kind of thing. I consider myself a clever man. I know, to a satyr that probably is a laugh. Funny thing actually, I like goats. I think they are funny looking and when young, quite adorable. Also, I am not a god. And I don’t like killing people. Or goats. So I asked the oracles what I could do to earn your loyalty,” Suman said smiling widely.

  Patch was taken aback at this. He was also greatly annoyed at the human’s smile. It irritated him to no end. He wanted to slap the smile off Suman’s face. It had a smugness to it that induced a rage within Patch. Perhaps it was because Suman had figured him out so easily or perhaps it was just because he was so insufferable. Regardless even this gesture of clemency annoyed Patch.

  “Well, if you’re done gloating then get on with it. What is your clever plan, or should I say, the oracle’s clever plan since apparently you couldn’t figure it out on your own.”

  “Hey now, I thought to ask them. That was all me,” Suman protested.

  Patch plastered a sarcastic look onto his face and gave Suman a round of applause.

  “I know where the nymphs are.”

  That put an end to his mockery. Patch stopped his clap in midair.

  “I realize that’s likely
what the god promised you for your cooperation, but wouldn’t you rather help us than him? I mean, the god will probably string you along forever keeping you doing little tasks for him until he tires of you and kills you, but I have no reason not to tell you. Once Cass remembers everything, I’ll tell you where they are,” Suman said.

  Patch slumped back into his seat. He pondered this turn of events carefully. He looked back up at Suman and frowned.

  “You’re right. The god Oshia won’t tell me. I suspected that before I told him I’d help him. But when it comes to nymphs, my people will take any shred of hope over nothing. I accept. However, there is one problem with your smart plan, human” Patch said.

  “What?”

  “What do we tell Oshia when he next arrives for an update?”

  “It won’t happen anytime soon.”

  “Really?” Patch’s sarcasm was thick.

  “Really.”

  The morning had started uneventfully enough. Cass woke up and went to the mess to grab a bite to eat. Patch and Suman were already there. Patch was looking unusually pale and a lot tetchier than he had when they parted the night before. Cass wondered what had happened after she left to turn Patch so sour.

  “Morning. Did I miss something last night?”

  “Let’s eat breakfast first, shall we?” Suman said as plates of potatoes and toast were laid out before them.

  “No,” Patch practically barked. He was tired of acting friendly around Cass. At least he no longer needed to keep that charade up. It was the only real upside he could see at the moment, since being beholden to Suman was a definite downside in his mind.

  “Get it over with, human.”

  Cass was surprised by Patch’s sudden change in attitude. She looked at Suman waiting for some kind of explanation. Suman sighed and proceeded to tell Cass everything he had learned about Patch from the oracles. As soon as Suman finished relaying this information, Patch jumped in.

  “You could have painted me in a slightly better light.”

  “How so?” Suman asked, chewing a piece of cheese.

  “For starters, you can stop calling me the goat man.”

  “You seem quite fond of nicknames that imply some sort of superiority, Mr. Human this and Human that.”

  Cass sat with her meal chilling before her. She looked from Patch, who was definitely less patient now that his alliance with the god had been revealed, to Suman, who looked as if he had just devoured an entire pie and was ready for more. “So, you’re telling me this god… Oshia, he hired Patch to find a way to take this stone from me? And he took my memory away? And now Patch is on our side because you’ll tell him where these nymphs are? Is that everything?”

  “Not exactly,” Suman said blushing. “I may have also stumbled across some underthings I thought you’d look fetching in and snuck them into your baggage.”

  Cass looked at Suman disgustedly.

  “I was starved for human companionship, okay? I cannot be held accountable for my actions… well not completely accountable… in any case that’s everything,” Suman replied.

  Cass crossed her arms and looked at Patch. He averted his eyes, ashamed that he felt ashamed about what he had done to this human.

  “So what’s the deal with this stone?” she asked.

  Patch sighed grumpily, but proceeded to explain to Cass. He figured he might as well cooperate if it meant a speedy end to this whole disastrous trip.

  “I’m not entirely sure. Oshia wants it. Very badly. It has to be given to him. If you die it simply goes back to its original owner, which Oshia does not want, which means he is not the original owner and neither are you.”

  Cass furrowed her brow, “Satyrs are supposed to be particularly clever. So give me your best guess as to what this stone is.”

  “A god thing. Meaning it belongs to a god. I don’t know which. I’m not too keen on the gods after all. They are the reason I and my kind are separated from our sisters. But if you die it goes to the god it belongs to. That god likely has some sort of grudge against Oshia and this stone holds some sort of power that could be used against him. That’s my guess anyway,” Patch said.

  Cass looked at the amber colored stone again hoping as she had hundreds of times before that it would dislodge some memory of why she had it and how she acquired it. She looked back up at the both of them, her hopes unfulfilled yet again.

  “Why did he need to blast away my memory?”

  “You’re probably in league with whoever this god is Oshia dislikes,” Patch said.

  Suddenly Suman put two thoughts together in his head. He wondered if Timta was the god who originally owned the stone. It seemed like a fair match to the mythical sun stone stories claimed she kept. For the moment, Suman decided to keep Cass’ lineage to himself. If Patch was pressed by Oshia, he might reveal that information which would certainly put Cass in further danger.

  Patch continued his thoughts out loud, “Or you know how to use the stone yourself, and he has to keep that power from you. He thought by making you forget everything you’d unwittingly give it to him of your own free will, that part he told me, I don’t know why he’d lie about it, but there could have been more to it he was unwilling to share. He indicated it would need to be given to me for me to acquire it for him. You had to give it to me, freely. If I stole it from you it would only be returned to you by mystical means,” Patch explained.

  “You haven’t been trying very hard to convince me to give it to you,” Cass said suspiciously.

  “You and Oshia are of one mind on that point,” Patch said with irritation. “I’ll tell you what I told him. The more I engaged you about the stone, the more you would suspect I wanted it. I did not want to give it value. I tried to convince you it was the source of your memory problems but this imbecile showed up,” Patch gestured toward Suman.

  “Hey!”

  “And just last night he bragged about how he was given it for a few moments and clearly and I should say, unfortunately, remembers exactly who he is. So my plan on that front failed. I intended to make a deal with someone who only had a short time left to live in the Golden City. I had planned on suggesting you give the stone to them because they felt they’d be better off not remembering anyway. Painful memories or some other sap story I could get you with. You’d give them the stone and they’d immediately give the stone to me, Oshia would pop up and I’d be done with this mess. But by the time I found you, you had already given away the stone and had it returned to you.”

  Patch did not seem the least bit remorseful for what he had done. Instead he glowered silently in his chair.

  “Have I done something wrong to you? I have to ask because you honestly seem to resent that you weren’t able to hand me over to a god,” Cass asked.

  Patch turned to Cass his stare cold.

  “I’ve lived a long time. Satyrs don’t reproduce. We can’t. We are immortal and incomplete. I’ve seen my people slowly die off. Not from anything natural mind you. It’s humans. It’s always humans that hunt us down. It doesn’t really matter why. They never have a good reason for it. Could be they believe we’re bewitching their women or that we’re a bad omen, or better yet we’ve helped one out of a sticky situation and they are fearful people will think them acquaintances of satyr, which is apparently tantamount to the most revolting thing a human can do. There are very few of us left.

  “And yes, I know not all humans are alike. It doesn’t really matter because enough of you are that I’ve never encountered one that hasn’t been trouble to me or my kind. To top that off, you are a warrior. Warriors have taken up every cause from saving kittens stuck on roofs to slaying ogres. Oh yes, and from time to time your kind help pompous rulers rid their land of harmless satyr infestations.”

  Patch stared into Cass’ eyes as he spoke again, “But you? No, you personally have done nothing to me.”

  Cass stayed silent for a while before speaking.

  “I can’t force any other warriors to help make amends to your p
eople, but I can promise you this: When I get my memory back, I swear I will make sure you and every last living satyr makes it to wherever your nymphs are, even if they are in a pit full of donkey piss and elves, I’ll get you there,” she said.

  “A noble sentiment. But you don’t really need to care about what I think of you. I’ve no intention of turning on you. Suman, as much as I hate to say it, is right. As little as I trust humans, I trust gods even less. I’m far more likely to learn of my sisters from Suman than I am Oshia,” Patch said.

  Cass decided not to argue with Patch. She figured it wouldn’t matter how much she protested that her motives had nothing to do with her fear of being turned in to Oshia. Patch had become too bitter over the years. His cynical nature would likely not allow him to accept that she genuinely wanted to right a wrong. She felt she could not blame him for helping the god. His options were probably death or nymphs. Whether or not he thought Oshia would ever tell him where the nymphs were, Patch probably found helping the god preferable to death. Not to mention the fact that it would be all too easy for Cass to judge with her current clean slate. She had no past to reflect on. She may have made similar decisions in her own past. She simply could not know.

  She decided to turn her thoughts to something more constructive.

  “Why has Oshia not come down here and just taken me away? Surely he knows his elaborate plan has been foiled,” Cass said.

  “On the contrary,” Suman said, eager for the conversation to take a turn “the gods are not omniscient. At least the oracles said as much. They can really only focus on one thing at a time. Granted, they can be focused anywhere on Tanavia at any time, they still can have their attention diverted. And the oracles told me that Oshia’s attention would be diverted long enough for our mission to be successful. They didn’t use his name of course, but nonetheless, that’s what they said.”