Nefarius

by Chris Fox

  Frit gazed sadly down at the shard she held in her hand, and nodded. She couldn’t blame Voria, but she wouldn’t alter her actions, even if she could. She knew where to go now. Frit translocated, and left her old life behind.

  51

  Bitter Answers

  Frit would have preferred to collect her thoughts before venturing into the Umbral Depths, but Voria had put her on the spot, and she’d instinctively translocated to the coordinates she’d seen in the vision the mirror had shown her.

  That probably wasn’t the smartest approach, as she had no idea what using the ability in the Umbral Depths would do.

  She appeared in the sky over a darkened world, one that may never have known the touch of a sun. Her senses had already been honed to see in the void, but Nebiat’s tremendous gift further enhanced her sight. She could see the magma under the surface, sustaining the world in the frigid depths.

  Yet there were also places she could not see. Somewhere in the northern continent lay a mountain surrounded by incredibly intricate wards. There were thousands of layers of them, each interlocking with the one above and below. The hand that had crafted them must be the most deft to ever weave a spell, or perhaps it had been erected by many pairs of hands.

  Frit drifted toward the planet, willing herself to accelerate with a bit of void. The planet’s atmosphere buffeted her, but her body had been designed for the rigors of space. Re-entry was…pleasant.

  She arrived at the strange mountain, so much larger than any of the others around it, and immediately spotted the very man-made entryway. It was quite unlike the caves on surrounding mountains, and further proved that someone or something dwelled here. She landed gently outside, and walked into the wide tunnel.

  “Ah, you have arrived,” came a strange voice from the shadows. It articulated words in strange places, and the sounds were mushed together in an inhuman way.

  Frit flared her aura, exposing the creature. Eight black eyes studied her, matched by an equal number of scaly limbs. She had no idea what manner of creature she was looking at, but it had spoken, which meant it could be conversed with.

  “You were expecting me?” she demanded. She tried to sound imperious, like she imagined Nebiat would when imposing her will on the world.

  “Of course.” The creature sounded scandalized, as if it were unthinkable it not know of her arrival. “Please, I will escort you directly to Neith. The goddess is quite enraged. I have never seen such a fit from her. She is not prone to temper, and if you are the cause then…I would do what you can to set your affairs in order.”

  Frit blinked a few times, but followed the creature up the corridor. It led her to a pair of golden double doors, which stood open. She noted that every temple she’d been to had incorporated gold. It seemed too prevalent to be coincidence, and she wondered idly if the metal had properties she were unaware of.

  “What is this place?” Frit hurried to keep up with the creature, which shuffled forward quite rapidly despite its odd gait.

  “The first library,” the creature calmly explained. It passed through the doors and into the mountain’s hollowed-out interior.

  Frit gazed around her in wonder, and realized what this place must be. Shelf after shelf after endless shelf lined every available wall, and all of them contained hundreds of knowledge scales. This place had to be the largest repository of knowledge in the sector. Far, far, larger than Shaya or the Spellship.

  “This way, please.” The creature sounded cross, and Frit realized she’d been standing there staring.

  She fell into step behind the creature, which shuffled through rows of shelves seemingly at random. Within moments, Frit was hopelessly lost, and even being able to see the top of the mountain didn’t do much to orient her. She had a sense that they were working their way toward the center, but beyond that had no idea where they were going.

  The strange spider-creature stopped in front of an enormous pair of double doors, predictably made of gold. It turned to face her, and perhaps pity entered its gaze. “If you survive, and are permitted, we will be happy to find any data you wish to acquire.”

  “Thanks.” She blinked up at the doors wondering what to do. She didn’t have to wonder long. They swung silently open, as if beckoning her.

  As soon as she stepped through them Frit detected immense strength. She could feel a god, a powerful one. It wasn’t so strong as Krox, but it was much, much more powerful than Voria. And it was almost entirely comprised of pure fire, her primary aspect.

  “Hello?” Frit called as she flew into the air and drifted toward the magical signature. “I’m told that you were expecting me, whoever you are.”

  “Indeed,” a voice thundered, too alien to assign any sort of gender to. The words were painful, but Frit ignored the discomfort.

  Frit scanned the darkness, and saw a roughly Wyrm-shaped creature scuttle forward. It looked like the creature that had guided her here, but a thousand times larger, and with thick, scaly wings behind its back.

  “You have aroused an emotion I have not experienced in sixty-seven centuries.” The creature scuttled forward further, and a thick white ball of flame appeared near the top of the cavern, illuminating its terrible visage. It contained the worst parts of spiders and Wyrms, and bits of nightmare stuffed in between. “Anger. Rage, perhaps. When a god reaches my age all emotions are rare, special occasions. So, for this reason, I will not devour you before learning more of your transgressions. I do not know how you have done what you have done, but I will have the tale.”

  “Uh.” Frit knew she didn’t sound very demigod like, but she’d just been caught redhanded doing something very, very bad. And she didn’t even know what it was. “It’s pretty short. I was trying to find this place. I knew you didn’t want it found, but I figured out that you’d left clues so that Nara could come here. I used my godsight to scan their memories. That required the mirror. Everything seemed to go fine, right up until I saw this world.”

  “At which point,” Neith thundered, all eight eyes blazing with inner flame, “the wards around this world and this reality snapped into effect. They did what they were designed to do and protected this place. In the process they destroyed one of the most ancient eldimaguses the galaxy, and perhaps the universe, has ever seen. The Mirror of Shaya was properly called the Mirror of Zelek, and predated any of the politics in this sector. It comes from the Great Cycle. Such objects are of incalculable worth.”

  “Respectfully, it was your magic that broke the mirror,” Frit pointed out. She was so sick of being blamed for things, and in this instance there was no way she could have anticipated this. “You have all the knowledge in the galaxy here from what I can see. People are dying out there. We have so many questions, and no answers. Can you blame us for doing whatever we can to find help?”

  The gods jaws quivered as it seemed to consider the problem. Finally, its body began to ripple and change. Frit watched in awe as a towering mountain became a woman roughly her size. Her skin was covered in a sea of scarlet scales so dark they could pass for black, and a pair of wings jutted majestically behind her.

  She resembled the Wyrms on Virkon, until one reached her midsection. Instead of legs she had a thorax, with four legs attached to it. Four arms extended from her upper body, all covered in the same scales. There was not a bit of hair anywhere on her body.

  “I have not worn this form in…well, longer than your species has existed.” Neith scuttled forward, and Frit suppressed a shiver. She hated spiders. Neith fixed her with eight beady eyes, set into an all-too-human face. “I wear it now, because I have finally met a student capable of understanding divination as I understand it. Your transgression should not have been possible. That it was means you have a singular gift. If you can acquire a divine quantity of dream, there will be nothing you cannot see.”

  “Thanks?” Frit cleared her throat. “Listen, I don’t want to sound hostile. I realize I’m bad at this diplomacy stuff, but, I came here for a reason. I was hoping
for help.”

  “I know. You seek to free Nebiat from her binding.” Neith’s mouth broke into an amused smile, made terrifying by so many eyes and an utterly inhuman mouth. “She would be free of Krox, which is a sentiment many gods before her have voiced. From Shivan to Marid…so many great gods and goddesses died because of that monster. Krox is terrible beyond imagining.”

  Frit considered the awful star Nebiat had shown her, and agreed. She’d seen Krox firsthand, and that was enough to take the threat very seriously. “So you understand the problem. Will you help her? Nebiat is hardly a good person—or deity now, I guess—but she’s far from the worst. I believe Nebiat can be persuaded to fight Nefarius, and we all know she’s coming. I don’t know where you stand in all this, but I can’t believe you want her to come back.”

  “Ahh, child.” The creature rumbled with laughter, which threatened the cavern and caused dust to rain down. “I would give almost anything to return to a time when I only needed to consider the simple circumstances surrounding this moment. When I only had to make one choice, made easy by visible cause and effect.”

  Frit sort of expected the patronizing tone, and didn’t take offense. Eros had done it all the time, and he wasn’t nearly as old as this…thing.

  “I’m only just beginning to understand how to perceive other possibilities,” Frit admitted. She didn’t like ignorance, but the first step to eradicating your own weaknesses was identifying them. “You, from what I can see, might have invented divination. That’s why I’ve come. You can show me the answers I cannot hope to find on my own, and you can warn me of implications I do not understand.”

  “And the first step to that is critical thinking.” Neith raised a pair of scaled arms and rubbed them together. “Tell me, Frit, if we released Nebiat today, if she were suddenly her own being, what would the immediate implications be?”

  Frit considered that. She knew that there was probably something obvious she was missing, but she stuck with what seemed to be the biggest problem. “Well, Krox would be free, unless we simultaneously find a way to keep him bound.”

  Neith nodded sagely. “Indeed, and I’m pleased to see you’ve considered that at least. Let’s say we modify the ritual so that it will keep Krox in stasis. Let’s assume doing so requires you to sacrifice another consciousness, one that will eventually be consumed, as Nebiat would be.”

  “That’s horrible,” Frit realized aloud. “There must be some other way.”

  “There is not.” Neith seemed to take no joy in the words. “Krox will escape any trap we set for him. He is ancient and cunning. It takes a powerful will to shackle such a being, even for a short time. Nebiat has managed this. Finding a replacement would be nearly impossible.”

  Frit fell silent, and thought about that. They couldn’t free Nebiat without also freeing Krox, unless they were willing to sacrifice someone else. That someone would need to be powerful, and powerfully motivated, or they’d be right back to Krox being free.

  “We have to leave her where she is.” The realization was a bucket of icy water over her shoulders. “Krox has to be contained.”

  “Why?” Neith leaned a bit closer, and studied Frit curiously. So close to human, but not. It was damned disturbing.

  “Krox can resist Nefarius.” Frit drifted a bit higher, and a bit of excitement leaked into her tone. “Krox is necessary to beat Nefarius.”

  “Very good.” Neith gave an encouraging smile that landed nearer predatory. “No victory against Nefarius is assured, but in the few possibilities I have gleaned, Krox played a role. We must take that into account when making our calculations. Could I free Nebiat? Certainly. Will I? Quite the opposite. I will actively oppose anyone who seeks to liberate her.”

  Frit knew in that instant that she’d failed her new mistress, because she patently agreed with Neith’s logic. There was no saving Nebiat. Not if they wanted survival for the rest of the sector.

  52

  Are You Mad?

  Nebiat spent countless hours crafting spectral forms. It was one of her few entertainments, and she indulged it often. Currently she’d focused on crafting the perfect spectral Wyrm.

  The trick was making herself larger than any of her children, but not so large that they could not relate to her. After much thought Nebiat decided that being Drakkon’s size was perfect. It was large enough to instill awe, as she’d learned to her horror back on Marid, but not so large that one would crater a continent simply by landing. That would prompt too much fear, and she didn’t want to rule her people the same way her father had done. Besides, when her children grew she could simply adjust her avatar to match.

  You spend too much time on these trivialities, Krox rumbled, his first words in more than a day. You have convinced me that form matters, to an extent, but it cannot come at the expense of your greater strategy. Nefarius will come soon. You see the possibilities as clearly as I, those few not obscured by Talifax’s meddling. Yet you do not seem to fear this, and take no steps to plan for it.

  Is that what you believe? That pleases me, old god, because it shows that I am better at hiding my thoughts than you would admit. Nebiat reveled in that. There were many problems she couldn’t find solutions for, the greatest being Krox eventually devouring her mind. The idea that she was building defenses he couldn’t penetrate gave her a shred of hope. I will reveal a bit of my plan, but know that I do not care what your opinion is. Like it or don’t. I will not change my plans.

  Very well, Krox rumbled back. I will not attempt to sway you, though if I see flaws in your limited plans I will not be silent.

  Nor would I ask you to. Nebiat actually valued Krox’s experience. She just understood the cost of relying on it. I know that you place little value on underlings, but much as I hate it, I must rely on my guardian. Frit is intelligent, capable, and most importantly well liked by the right people. Gods and mortals alike are more likely to deal with her than with me. Particularly because she is operating under her own auspices, and they will know that. They will see she has not been coerced in any way.

  Krox pulsed thoughtfully. I see value in this plan. You continue to surprise me. Your enemies revile you, as those who remember me do. They will not trust us or ally with us, because they know we will betray them when it suits us.

  But Frit, Nebiat pointed out, is honorable. She is just. She is concerned with equality and fairness. As difficult as it may be, I must allow her to operate on my behalf. At best I might create another servant or two, but acting directly is foolish. You’ve made it very clear that Talifax can predict our movements. Well, if I choose not to move, to remain here, then I ensure I am no threat. Nefarius, if she rises, will focus on Voria and her allies. We are free to grow in strength, and to breed an army on the world below. By the time Nefarius can turn her attention to us we will be strong enough to resist her.

  There my faith in your plan ends. Now Krox pulsed amusement. I have watched many cultures erroneously assume that they could resist Nefarius when she came. You have no idea what she is like, or how difficult to resist she will be. If she comes for this world your schemes will not save you. Any allies you make will not save you. Capitulation will not save you. Your only course is total, overwhelming victory against the greatest warrior of the greatest portion of the godswar still recorded in Neith’s annals.

  Nebiat knew Krox wasn’t deceiving her. She could see his thoughts, the memories of Nefarius’s many victories. She had been terrible, and only bested through a coalition of powerful elder gods. Most of those elder gods no longer existed.

  She was saved from having to answer when a being suddenly translocated into existence a mere few hundred kilometers from Krox’s bulk. Frit had returned.

  Nebiat joyously assumed her new spectral Wyrm form, and appeared in the sky near Frit. The Ifrit turned to face her, and Nebiat could tell from her guardian’s facial expression that things had not gone well. She opened her jaws, and spoke in a deep, sonorous voice. “Tell me, guardian. What have you learned
?”

  “I’ve seen a great deal,” Frit began, drifting closer, near Nebiat’s slitted eye. “Some thing you will like, and I suppose I’ll lead with that. In trying to uncover the location of the hidden world in the Umbral Depths, I was forced to use the Mirror of Shaya.”

  “And?” Nebiat demanded. She dearly wanted to get her claws on that device, but Frit wasn’t carrying it now.

  “The defenses of the deity I scryed kicked in.” Frit’s face fell, and she looked tremendously embarrassed. “The mirror shattered, and cannot be repaired. I was knocked unconscious in the blast, and woke up to find Voria standing over me.”

  “You are fortunate to be alive.” Nebiat desperately sought to contain her curiosity. She’d been cooped up for entirely too long. At least Krox had stilled his commentary.

  Frit shook her head, long strands of flaming hair drifting in space around her like a sea of writhing snakes. “No, I am not some tool, as it turns out. You may have given me a bit more magic than you meant to. I fought Voria to a standstill, and I might have been able to win that fight. She knew it, so we stopped, rather than destroy the Spellship. She asked me to tell you that your plan had succeeded, and to tell you that she hopes you are happy. She’s lost the tool she needed to find Nefarius.”

  “Was the Spellship damaged?” Nebiat fought to contain her emotions. That ship was of paramount importance, but she could not afford to reveal that fact, not to anyone.