When the Goddess Wakes

by Howard Andrew Jones

  Once he had familiarized himself with the disposition of the soldiers along the walls, he departed to inspect the courtyard, lovely but unremarkable apart for one feature. At first glance the stables hardly appeared of great interest, large though they were. And then he discovered two of Cerai’s servants dragging a hay cart down a ramp in the rear of the building where it abutted the ramparts. At the ramp’s base he spied a set of open doors, as well as a pair of soldiers readying to close them. They eyed Rylin suspiciously as he descended.

  Beyond them lay a hay-strewn stone corridor not very different from the one serving the stalls above, save for its depth underground and dimensions. In the lantern-lit gloom he saw more pen doors. He also smelled the familiar odors of horse and manure, though there were other less identifiable scents. And then there was the matter of the ceiling, which was much taller than the one above. Why was this chamber so large?

  The guards retreated inside the hall and pushed its doors closed behind them. Rylin heard a heavy thud, as of a crossbar being dropped into place.

  He considered the best course of action before he put a fist to the door and knocked politely.

  “Who seeks entrance?” A muted voice asked through the wood.

  “Alten Rylin.”

  “You are not to enter here,” the man told him.

  “That’s fine. I’m just looking for a number.”

  There was a brief delay, then a curious query. “What number?”

  “I need to know how many mounts we have so I can choose the warriors who’re going to ride them.” Rylin thought that sounded straightforward enough, but wouldn’t necessarily generate the precise information he needed, so he pressed on. “I know how many horses we have up here, and I know how many ko’aye we have, but no one’s told me how many of each animal we have down here.”

  Neither of the men answered for a long moment, and Rylin worried these soldiers might be more capable of reasoning than the others.

  A lighter voice replied: “Why are you the one who counts?”

  “I’m the best counter,” Rylin said.

  His reply must have made sense, at least to former kobalin, for it earned him an answer. “There are eight of fire horses, and one air beast. Each fire horse takes two, and the air beast can take a five of riders.”

  “That’s twenty-one,” Rylin said, demonstrating his prowess.

  “That was quick counting,” one of the voices told him.

  “That’s why they sent me. Enjoy the rest of your day.” Rylin tried not to feel too self-satisfied as he started up the ramp. In addition to gaining information, he had fully confirmed one of Cerai’s weaknesses. While her soldiers would faithfully execute her orders, they had little understanding about the purpose behind any particular command.

  He wondered why Cerai kept what sounded like a more impressive selection of mounts hidden, and supposed she must have toyed with the idea of hosting guests like themselves who wouldn’t have approved of the creatures, or who would ask uncomfortable questions about their origins. Or maybe the beasts were simply easier to manage underground.

  Apart from one large plow horse, the main level stalls were either empty or occupied by unsettlingly similar black mares. Rylin spent a few moments trying to decide which one acted easiest to work with, discovering they were identically compliant. With some disquiet, he saddled one, fit it with reins and bit from a nearby rack, and led it from the stable.

  Before long he had arrived at the spread of oaks where he’d seen the ko’aye. He swung off before his mount came to a complete stop and started up the hill. A lumpy shape in the grass resolved itself into Lelanc, who raised her head on her swanlike, red-brown feathered neck and regarded him through lambent orange eyes. Drusa was nowhere in sight.

  He bowed a few steps shy of his friend. She lowered her sharp-beaked head in return.

  “I bring you greeting, Lelanc,” Rylin said.

  “I return greeting, Rylin. You and I ride the winds in strange times.”

  “Yes. Where’s Drusa?”

  “She said she wished to see the limits of the land. Do you know that the storm is so bad there is nothing now but night sky past this piece?”

  “You mean the void?” Rarely did the storms grow so bad in the shifts there was no land to be found. He had read about such things only in historical accounts.

  “I do not know that word,” Lelanc said. “But there is no land, only an endless sky.”

  “That’s what we call a ‘void,’” Rylin explained, wondering what this information meant for them. Nothing good, he guessed.

  “Drusa says that all the lands may fail. That all may perish before we can reach them. She said Kyrkenall spoke to her of such things, before the battle.”

  “We’re worried about those things,” Rylin said.

  “And Drusa says we have to fight together, those of us here. But how can we fight such a thing as that dark woman who is bigger than all others? Even the greatest of you could not harm her, and she rules the winds.”

  “We are finding ways to fight. Kyrkenall and Elenai went off to seek a special weapon that can hurt her.”

  Lelanc let out a soft, eager caw. “I have wished that there was a thing that I could do. A battle I could wage.” She eyed Rylin sharply. “I wish to kill Cerai. But she is in the fortress, and you are there with her now.”

  “I wish we weren’t,” Rylin said. “I can’t stand her,” he added. “But I’m afraid we have to work with her to fight the Goddess.”

  At the flap of large wings he looked up to see Drusa gliding in. Her long neck scar stood out as a pale line through her bright blue feathers.

  “The winds shift too much,” Lelanc went on. “First the Naor are enemies. Now they are allies. The mind-stealer Cerai betrayed us, yet we must work with her.”

  “The Naor surrendered to us,” Rylin said. “That’s different…” He saw Lelanc’s steady gaze and sighed. “You’re right. I’m confused by it, too. Look, everything’s falling apart and we all have to work together. There’s really nothing more to it than that.”

  Drusa hit the ground at a run, near the foot of the hill. She was seasoned enough that she had chosen to land opposite the horse, although the beast didn’t appear particularly alarmed by her.

  Lelanc stared at Rylin, and he wondered if he had made his point with her, or if the gap in understanding was simply too great. He read nothing from her demeanor.

  Drusa folded her wings as she climbed the hillside, then stopped and bowed her head formally to Rylin.

  “Good morning to you, Alten,” she said, her voice rasping. “I have flown to the edge and looked over the darkness. It is a sky that never ends.”

  “Rylin names it void,” Lelanc told her. “He brings word that Kyrkenall and Elenai seek a weapon that will hurt the giant woman thing.”

  Drusa cawed. “That is good! Have you come to tell us of a weapon we can seek?”

  “There’s not another I know of. We’re still trying to decide what else we can do.”

  “What do you want of us, Rylin?” Drusa asked shrewdly.

  “I came to learn if there was anything you required.”

  “We desire a battle.”

  “I was thinking more along the lines of food.”

  “We hunt among the grasses. We are well, for now. Is there no place we can fly together and seek enemies?”

  Rylin felt himself smile. He liked the ko’aye, both for their direct and honest thought processes, and because of their readiness for action. “If I find a place, I’ll tell you on the instant.”

  Drusa lowered her head. “If there is no more fight here, then we will fly the void to fight with our own when comes the enemy to our nests.”

  Rylin winced inwardly at this pronouncement, but bowed his head in acknowledgment. “I understand. There will be more battles. We’re still planning them and we expect the enemy to come here soon.”

  Drusa let out a trilling warble. “We shall await them,” she said.


  “These words make for good hearing,” Lelanc agreed.

  Rylin sat with the ko’aye while he composed a written report for N’lahr, then bade both ko’aye farewell. Once back in the fortress, he stopped off in the quarters he shared with the exalts to freshen up, only to find Tesra standing at the window, overlooking the courtyard.

  She turned at his entrance, and then both froze. Nothing lay between them but ten paces of wooden flooring. Bunk beds stood to his right and left, and he debated simply nodding at her and reaching into his pack on the uppermost bunk for his toiletries.

  Then he realized this might be one of the few opportunities he’d get to speak to her alone, and so he forced himself to speak. “I’m glad you got out all right,” he said.

  She cut him off before he could say anything more. “I’m not sure I want to talk to you, Rylin. There’s a lot going on.”

  “There is, but there’s a wrong I need to correct.” Sensing she was about to object, he spoke quickly: “When I was last with you, I took advantage of our friendship. I wish I had seen another way. And I—”

  Tesra cut him off. “Another way. Do you know, it’s not so much that you deceived me, it’s that you were so pleased with yourself while you were doing it. You liked tricking me.”

  “That’s not true,” Rylin said. He didn’t tell her he’d been impressed he’d succeeded, because that would muddy his actual regret. “It’s troubled me ever since.”

  “Are you going to tell me now that you were under orders so I shouldn’t hold it against you?” She took a step that while toward him he knew was intended to be toward the door.

  He could have pointed out that she’d been part of a traitorous enterprise, and that his connection to her had been one of the few avenues to learning more about the Mage Auxiliary’s secretive activities. But he chose instead to discuss his own actions. “No. I want to tell you I’m sorry.”

  She was quiet for a long time, watching him. Finally, she spoke with subdued challenge. “Do you expect me to accept your apology?”

  He shook his head. “I’ve no expectations. I’m merely giving what I think is owed.”

  Tesra let out a long, slow breath, watching him. “You used me, and that hurt. But then it turns out we not only deserved to be investigated, the exalts deserve to be disbanded and put on trial. Our actions were criminal. So I’ve been wrestling with that. Among other things.”

  “You weren’t the one who imprisoned N’lahr. You didn’t kill Asrahn.”

  “No. But I conspired with the queen to bring back a Goddess. The sad thing is that even now I feel like I betrayed my queen and my friends, even though I know that they—we—were wrong. I’ve been trying to figure out how I got so twisted around by it all, and I think I wanted to belong to something greater than me. Something that had a lock on the truth. I fooled myself. But then it turns out I’m easy to fool.” She looked bitterly at Rylin. “I had this crazy idea people who said they were my friends wouldn’t use me. If I’d known better I would have understood everyone is always using each other.”

  He’d resigned himself to enduring each of her insults, but this statement pulled him up short. “I don’t think that’s true.”

  “You wouldn’t.”

  She thought he was still referring to himself. Rylin decided to clarify. “Over the last few weeks, I’ve seen tremendous acts of courage from people who expected nothing in return.”

  “Apart from a few songs and poems in their honor?” Her voice was mockingly sweet.

  Though he very much wished to soothe her resentment, he couldn’t let that stand. “You’re turning a blind eye to the best of us. People who die doing the right thing even when no one’s watching, people who hold the line so a few more people have a chance to get away.”

  His tone must have alerted her to a change in his thoughts, for she sounded sympathetic. “You mean Varama? I—”

  He didn’t let her finish. “I mean Aradel. I mean Renik. I mean Lasren. I mean Varama.” He meant Commander N’lahr, carefully planning a battle he himself might not live to wage. Rylin’s emotions threatened to overwhelm him. His voice grew hoarse. “I mean dozens of squires and soldiers from Alantris whose names you’ll never know. You think it’s about glory and it’s not. The honors, the nicknames, the ring—I’d trade any and all of it if I could have gotten one more person alive out of Alantris. Or if I could have saved my friends.” He wiped moisture from his face and continued. “Hate me if you like. I know my failings. But I am sorry. You deserve better, and you deserved better from me.”

  She was quiet for a long time, watching him. “I can see that you’ve suffered,” she said finally. “Maybe you’ve even changed. It’s … I don’t even know my own mind any more. Which thoughts come from me.”

  “Synahla could twist people’s minds,” Rylin said.

  “I think she was working her way with me for the last week or so, and I can feel her spell trying to bend me, even now. But blaming her is an easy way out, Rylin. She didn’t weave me until long after it was obvious what we were doing was wrong. What I did was my fault. I don’t know how I’ll ever make up for that.”

  “What we do next, together, is a lot more important than what happened before.”

  “I hope you’re right,” Tesra said quietly.

  An awkward silence followed. Rylin knew he’d achieved nearly all he could, but decided to share a final observation. “You’re a good person, Tesra. A kind one, and a skilled mage. We’re stronger with you on our side, and I’m glad you’re here.” He grabbed his pack and turned away.

  “Rylin.”

  He stopped. She was a long time finding her way to whatever was troubling her. “I’m glad we talked,” she said finally.

  “Me too.”

  She offered the barest trace of a smile. He returned it, then retreated to the washroom before searching for N’lahr. He wasn’t able to visit privately with the commander until that evening, when he handed his written report to him, complete with maps. He was certain N’lahr would burn it the moment he’d committed it to memory. Rylin had hoped to learn more about Varama, but there was no way to safely discuss her. N’lahr instead spoke about the arrangements for the funeral ceremony they were holding in the morning.

  Rylin was leaving N’lahr’s room when he spotted Cerai’s chief servant, Sorak, approaching with a lantern. Rylin moved to one side, thinking the man would pass, but Sorak drew to a halt and bowed his head.

  “Alten Rylin, I bid you greetings. The goddess Cerai wishes to speak with you, if it is convenient.”

  The framing of the invitation surprised Rylin, who guessed Cerai rarely, if ever, worried about anyone’s convenience. “Do you know what she wants?”

  “I do not question her,” Sorak answered.

  Naturally he wouldn’t. What could she want from him? Was it possible she had observed what he’d written for N’lahr? He thought it unlikely, but then he wasn’t truly certain about the extent of her abilities. Regardless of what she had heard or seen, she clearly wanted to learn more from him. The trick would be learning something from her while revealing nothing. He couldn’t afford to pass up the opportunity. “All right, Sorak, lead me to her.”

  The man guided him to the ground floor, escorting him into a cozy inner chamber lit by walled sconces, sumptuously furnished with long couches sewn with blue cushions. Cerai stood at a buffet pouring liquid from a decanter into a goblet.

  She turned as Sorak announced Rylin, and once again he had to admit to himself just how beautiful she truly was. She’d put no special effort into her appearance and was all the more striking perhaps because of that. Gone was the elaborate hairdo from earlier in the day. Instead, her dark hair was pulled back in a simple ponytail. She had shed her uniform and now wore a loose white blouse, a pair of flared slacks, and matching slippers.

  “I have brought the alten, Goddess,” Sorak said.

  “Thank you. Leave us.”

  “As you command.” Sorak bowed.

  H
e retreated, closing the doors behind him. Cerai gestured at one of the couches. “Join me, Rylin. Do you want some juice?”

  “No, thank you.”

  He wondered if he was wrong to be so cautious of any drink she offered. He followed her to the nearest grouping of couches. She sat in a loose-limbed, confident way, still clutching the goblet stem. “I have wine,” she said, “but not a lot. I keep meaning to experiment with making some, but there are so many more important things to worry about.”

  He sat down across from her. “The juice is excellent,” he said. “I’m just not thirsty.”

  “Thank you for joining me. Did you enjoy your tour of my fortress?” She drank, watching him, and he wondered if she knew everything, or if she was probing to learn more of what he’d seen.

  “It’s an impressive achievement. I didn’t see any marks in the stone, much less mortar. Did you build this all in one go, with hearthstones?”

  “The process required multiple adjustments.”

  “I was surprised you kept the hearthstones on the far side of the complex from your rooms.”

  “I don’t keep all of them there. But yes. Belahn and Leonara kept theirs with them at all times. I think it wiser to make a conscious choice to use my tools, before I get to wondering who is using whom, so I placed the majority of them in a location where I must walk to gain access.” She sat the goblet down on an end table. When she faced Rylin once more, she had grown solemn. “We had started out so well, you and I. It should have gone differently, and I hope it still can. I know why you’re angry. I meant what I said, you know.”

  He wondered what she was referring to, but didn’t interrupt.

  “I really would have taken you with me on the ko’aye if I could have,” she continued. “You must understand how important it was to have the keystone. There will be no way to restore the realms without it. You’ve looked at it now. You know how important it is.”