The Accidental Archmage: Book Nine: The Dragon Houses

by Edmund A. M. Batara

***

  He turned and looked over his companions. Except for Kobu, they all had returned to the shallow depression. Habrok was on his way to the rear, evidently planning to scout the area. The seated Ritona was busy talking with Astrid and Thyma. He stared at the seer, glad to see she suffered no apparent injury. Not that he had any idea about seer-related illnesses.

  Tyler assumed Ritona was being brought up to date by those beside her. Adar wasn’t the same one she knew. As if I returned to a familiar world myself, he considered wryly. The mage reminded himself to tell her that her kin was in the south, and mention Camulus and the pair of Keltoi war goddesses he had encountered. Remembering the former, he hoped the war god had recovered from his injuries. That thought quickly led to Viracocha, the Staff God. He wondered what the ancient deity was doing now. Despite the mage’s dislike of the pantheons, he liked the antique, though Tyler idly wondered if the god didn’t know his secrets already.

  And Eira, he reflected wistfully. The longing erupted like a sudden blaze. Keeping his concern and feelings in the background was challenging yet necessary. Dangerous treks to unknown lands demanded his full attention if they were to survive. Even now, he was thankful that not a companion had been lost. Still, it was an observation he wouldn’t dare say out loud. Fate’s painful jokes upon lowly creatures who foolishly presume they control or knew their future were remarkably pervasive among unrelated cultures.

  Come of think of it, even seers and prophets get screwed. Thyma’s fate is but one example. Dammit. My mind wanders. I really have to go home, even for a little while. This shit gets you.

  ***

  Sighing, Tyler gave the town in the distance a last look and walked back to the group. Se-Osiris and Cassius were in deep discussion, speaking in low voices. He didn’t have to guess what they were discussing. What Grastein revealed was enough for an entirely new field of magical study. He walked to where the Keltoi deity, Thyma, and the Valkyrie talked and asked the seer if she had recovered.

  “I am fine, Archmage. Such flashes of unexpected divination tear at me. In comparison, prophecies arising from rituals are bearable. It must be this bizarre change in the air,” replied Thyma.

  “I have no idea what’s happening,” ventured Tyler immediately. He knew where the discussion was going. “But I would like to talk with our Keltoi deity.”

  Tyler told Ritona about her brethren and added the information that human tribes of her pantheon had established their own territory. Though the news was limited since the mage was unfamiliar with the Keltoi, Ritona’s relieved smile was nearly enough to brighten up an otherwise gloomy day for the Archmage. It bothered Tyler considerably that she kept on bowing to him.

  This is embarrassing, thought the uncomfortable mage as he tried to dissuade the tearful deity from further thanking him. The hidden, amused stares from the others increased his mortification at being bowed to by a goddess. At least she looked happy at the news that her kin found a new homeland. I hope that helps her in dealing with her memories of Banna. Do deities suffer from trauma? PTSD?

  The deities he mentioned, according to Ritona, crossed over during later migrations. They weren’t around when she arrived. Then she began asking what boon Tyler wanted. The mage merely smiled and told her he couldn’t countenance leaving anybody on Banna. The alienness of the place was hell to anyone who didn’t belong there. In the end, the tearful Keltoi deity declared that if ever Tyler or anyone in the company got lost, all they had to do was call out her name and ask for directions. Even if the world was different now, she was confident that her ability to guide travelers would eventually return.

  The young mage bowed his head and gave thanks. Considering his future, the gift would prove invaluable. Still, her current unfamiliarity dictated a return courtesy of Se-Osiris. The smiling spirit mage had no objection. The pantheon of Kemet and the Keltoi deities were allies, after all.

  Tyler considered their next move. Proper rest and food were priorities. Considering how he felt, their Banna excursion was worse than expected. Add to that a day of startling disclosures. With such a streak of shockers, he was already wary of Sigtuna. When they left, the town was in a victorious mood, despite the emergence of the mythical Void. But the mage also remembered a cleaner and normal atmosphere, unburdened by whatever malaise now plagued the very air.

  Casting a scrying spell in the town’s direction, the sudden opaque field the magical beam encountered didn’t surprise him much. In truth, he half-expected it. Holding the spell steady, Tyler found the narrow beam was blocked by whatever it met. The mage widened its scope and discovered a strange anomaly veiled the entire town. No way he would venture there without further probing.

  He called the Kemetian over and explained the situation, keeping his voice down. The company already knew something was wrong. Tyler’s disappointed reaction was evident to everyone. Still, the graveness of Se-Osiris’s face wasn’t reassuring. The spirit mage briefly considered what Tyler described and volunteered to inspect the town.

  “Death and corruption. I’ve encountered similar phenomena before, Archmage, and they always forced me to do battle. But hopefully, whatever created that profanity may have left. I’ll inspect. I’ve got my abilities, and I am dead,” said Se-Osiris.

  “You do know the saying that there are…” started Tyler.

  “Worse things than death,” grinned the Kemetian mage. “I know. But I still have a bit of a major deity’s power left. That’s more than enough for such fiends.”

  “Se-Osiris, the minor deity, or something along that line,” joked Tyler.

  “Indeed,” chortled the portly figure. “Mighty was I when I could tread upon solid earth, but to wield a deity’s power, even for a while, is the seed upon which delusions are born.”

  “Be careful. Given our luck, the bastard might still be there,” warned the mage with a weary smile, though amused at the witticism.

  “Good.”

  ***

  The curious company gathered again at the top of the undulation, except Habrok, who maintained his watch at their rear. Se-Osiris had vanished, and they presumed him to be on his way.

  A dark fog rose from the town, rising above the tallest structures and formed into the shape of a colossal spiderlike beast made of smoke. It faced the rightmost side of Sigtuna, revealing to the company multiple legs attached to its murky body. Tyler’s sight revealed more bizarre features. It didn’t have the usual collection of eyes usual to spiders. Instead, the head was a gigantic mouth with an unhinged lower jaw. It reminded him of the giant worms they fought in the Barrens. Luminous green froth bubbled in the orifice, decorated with numerous jagged incisors. Bizarrely, the teeth constantly changed shape. They continually lengthened and reduced in size, and the billowing mass that formed its misty body also didn’t have a fixed form.

  Tyler sent another scrying spell. This time, it easily covered the town. The barrier that earlier defied it was gone. He assumed everything Se-Osiris’s opponent had was now directed against the Kemetian mage. It spoke of experience and ability. Identifying the danger level of a threat was a hallmark of such traits.

  An abruptly glowing Sigtuna drew his attention. The massive spiderlike mist towering over the town was promptly frozen in place. Even the substantial wisps curling from its body became motionless. A giant golden beam lanced down from above and tore into the captive entity. It promptly dissipated. Not a sound came from its demise. Not even the ether echoed its death. Then a radiance illuminated Sigtuna and the area around it. A quick check revealed that the dark sensations Tyler had felt before were gone. But the town was empty and truly dead.

  “You’re right, Archmage. Empty as the purse of Anum,” said the Kemetian mage upon his return.

  “Who?” asked the mystified Tyler.

  “Anum. The unluckiest gambler I had the displeasure of knowing. He loves games of chance, but they don’t love him. The town grounds were corrupted up to several feet from the walls. Structures remained standing. But it’s quiet
as a graveyard. Considering the size of the town, necropolis would be a better description.”

  “What do you think happened?” Tyler continued. An entire town wouldn’t be dead unless something really nasty dropped by.

  “I didn’t enter the place. There was no point, and I try not to fight on my enemy’s choice of arena. But the stink of ancient malice was familiar. Scores of dead on the streets. The remains of monstrous creatures mixed with those of humans. The very ground cursed by an eldritch power. My guess is an Old One came to visit. Only purification spells work against those types. And no, I don’t know its name. There’s too many to count and too dangerous to exchange courtesies before trying to destroy each other,” came the reply. “I’ve fought a few of those horrors back on the First World.”

  Old One? Thoughts of Lovecraft’s stories rushed through Tyler’s panicked mind. The Elder Gods are here?

  Noticing Tyler’s stare and mistaking it for ignorance, Se-Osiris explained.

  “Dark, solitary spirits who managed to move to this world. For them to be roused from their hidden abodes, a great shift in the magical flow of Adar must have happened. They’re usually cautious. Intimidated by a new world and active pantheons. I saw a noxious trail coming from the mountains.”

  That’s a relief: no Cthulhu or any such magical behemoth. I doubt if we could take on an extra-dimensional deity worshipped by the rogue Elders, considered the mage, thankfully. Definitely above my paygrade.

  He wondered what other horrors and surprises the day had for him. Nothing would surprise his saturated mind anymore. Tyler felt drained. Numb. Tired. The mainland felt inexplicably foreign and more dangerous. The mage just wished it wouldn’t be as bad as Banna.

  Chapter Nine

  Skrymir

  A young man garbed in scuffed and dirty dragon armor stared at the three moons above him. The party camped where they arrived. It made sense. Far enough from Sigtuna and below the line of sight of passing strangers. He looked at the northern sky. Aurorae weaved their mesmerizing ways through the firmament, and a wall of light reminded the mage of the ongoing struggle between Ginnungagap’s splinter and the elemental jotunn lords.

  Besides, everybody was tired. The company had to suffer one more evening under the stars. Tyler hoped they’ll be able to rest the following night properly. The problem was Maljen was in the opposite direction of Se-Osiris’s intended destination. He shelved the concern for the moment, fully intending to let his mind rest. Tomorrow’s troubles could wait, and brooding wasn’t going to get him rest.

  When he left after dinner, the companions were busy with their own affairs or preparing to sleep. Habrok had taken the first watch while the Kemetian and the Romanii were occupied with Ritona. Tyler presumed it was their turn to keep the Keltoi deity updated. The exile was his usual self and sat a few feet behind the Archmage. The unfamiliar constellations winked back at Tyler. He idly wondered whether the inhabitants of Adar ever considered the existence of other planets and heavenly bodies. Magic had apparently stifled any inclination toward scientific inquiries. They might reasonably interpret the flecks of light as the abodes of the gods. His mind went to the staff. He was needed, no question about it. But he held back by the realization and fear that his double would see what changes have occurred. Tom would definitely try for a manipulative angle. An advantage he couldn’t allow. Even the idea of the twin talking to his wards made his skin crawl. Worse, intimate moments with Eira were out of the question. He couldn’t shut out or turn off Tom as he could do with his guides.

  A faint rush of power caught his attention. The notion of a magical entity immediately rose in his thoughts. Tyler had scryed the area previously, and it was mercifully free of predators and other dangerous creatures. The unexpected emanation could only mean a deity or magical spirit. Yet, the aura remained at the edge of his detection. Fortunately, the mage didn’t sense any aggression. But he stopped himself from examining the being. Magical scrutiny might be interpreted as a hostile act. Instead, Tyler kept it under observation. He’d know soon enough.

  ***

  One of his rings suddenly warmed up and his world blurred without warning. Tyler started to stand but fell back when he felt a familiar aura. It didn’t surprise the mage when he found the grass replaced by a chair. Seated before him was Odin. Gone was the armor, and the god wore the gray robe of his wanderer persona.

  “You know you could have sat on the grass beside me. Even an invitation would have sufficed,” said Tyler sardonically.

  The deity didn’t answer immediately. His remaining eye unnervingly bore into the young mage.

  “You’ve been to Banna.”

  “Lumeri told you?” asked Tyler, taken aback by the query.

  “No. Your magic carries more than echoes of that land. Yet I also see your aura has changed.”

  “I guess I owe you an explanation,” he replied. The Allfather just confirmed that he was involved in the sealing off of the Forbidden Isle and that Odin’s ring still kept track of him when in Skaney.

  Tyler recounted what happened after Sigtuna, though he modified the story, omitting any reference to the Elders. It became a request by Lumeri to investigate an unknown source of power, an appeal that became a trap. Then he told of the Scribe’s plans and his opinion on how he was able to circumvent the ban on the island.

  “We should have included mortals in the proscription. But that’s hindsight talking. Still, it was a difficult task—creating that barrier. The better part of no less than seven pantheons was involved, and fighting off the sorcerers of that cursed land made it doubly so. At least the barricade worked. Up to now.”

  The dispassionate disclosure stunned the mage. He already suspected that practitioners of Banna were powerful, yet for Odin to admit that they were formidable enough to challenge the pantheons of the mainland was astounding by itself. Either the deity totally trusted him or was very confident about what seven godly assemblies could do. Tyler couldn’t bring himself to disabuse Odin of the latter notion. The mage strongly suspected that the avatar raised the additional barrier after that event. His link with the entity was also a secret better kept to himself. He doubted if the pantheons’ wall alone could withstand a determined magical assault from the denizens of Banna.

  “Nobody came back to check?” he inquired evenly.

  “Nobody wants to visit places of past defeats or disastrous close calls. We succeeded but barely got away, losing a number in the battle. Even if anybody wanted to examine what we built, thorny problems caught up with us,” replied Odin. “Still, I am curious how you were able to bring back that Keltoi goddess. We didn’t know that any deity remained on the island.”

  He gave Ritona’s account, supplementing it with the guess that the Keltoi deities must have been deep in the interior when the barrier was built. Tyler admitted it took a while for him to determine how Ritona could pass the blockade. Explaining the process, he substituted the strange energy found on Banna for the Elder power he used. It was a lie, but he’d keep the existence of the availability of Elder knowledge a secret as long as he could. Even from friendly gods.

  Odin gazed at him thoughtfully after his narration, resulting in an anxious Archmage. If the Allfather pressed the issue, Tyler knew he’d be unable to resist revealing everything. But he steeled himself and stared back, the warnings of Dionysus and Viracocha ringing their alarms. For deities, it was a political game for power on a level beyond mortal empires and kingdoms. Politics relied on greed. Every being on Adar – including him – has that hunger. The boundaries may differ, but the ravenous seed was there.

  “I’ll trust you on this one. Know, though, that I sense secrets and hope that you’ll freely share such confidences in time. From the Gap, the Barren Lands, the cursed Void Lands, Tartarus, and elsewhere, your work has greatly helped our alliance of pantheons. You have defeated our enemies and thwarted their plans. That already puts us in considerable debt to this world’s Archmage,” said Odin.

  And the possibil
ity of Tom being released and going on a rampage wasn’t a consideration? reflected Tyler dourly. But he’ll take his victories, no matter how small.

  “Yet, your revelation about the Scribe is worrying. Another stone added to an already weighty burden. Ah, the workings of fate. Deities, same with mortals, are their own worst enemies. Interference with Lumeri’s end created a formidable enemy. He is dangerous. All that knowledge. All those secrets. Dealing with his guardians alone would be a daunting task. Protectors and caretakers given by gods themselves. Irony tastes foul, indeed,” continued the god pensively. It was evident that he didn’t relish the notion of Lumeri attempting a goal worse than Loki’s. But the reaction reinforced Tyler’s hunch that the Scribe was perfectly capable of doing what he set out to do.

  “New worries,” said the deity as he rose. “We’re still fighting to recover all of Vanaheimr, and the rest of Yggdrasill’s worlds are still in turmoil. Even Asgard has overstaying guests.”

  “The primordial tree,” commented Tyler, following the deity’s lead.

  Odin chuckled. The mirth dispelled the disquiet born of the somber atmosphere.

  “A dimensional pathway. Its winding appearance does give the appearance of a majestic tree. Some mortals refer to it as Odin’s gallows or my horse, in the colloquial sense. The place where I hanged myself. Mímameiðr, or Mimir’s tree, would be more apt. The wisdom of that Ancient opened the Gates between the Nine Worlds.”

  Tyler stared at the Norse god, caught by surprise. Suicide? He committed suicide? His dumbstruck expression elicited a bout of laughter from the deity.

  “It’s what mortals believe, Havard. Close your mouth before one of Thor’s goats gets in. An observation, nothing more. I didn’t say it’s true. Funny, I use Yggdr as one of my many names,” said Odin.

  Shaking off the stunned reaction, Tyler remained standing and instinctively held out his hand, palm out, as a gesture to halt. Just as quickly, it was withdrawn. Odin was a deity, even if the mage enjoyed an enviable familiarity with him. He quickly looked at the god, worried about any perceived insult. A curious expression met his gaze.