The Game of the Gods

by C G Gaudet

Frejha lifts her head to check to see if anyone’s watching us, and the motion makes her wince in pain. I grab her arm to pull her to her feet and move her to a waiting area behind the seating that appears to be meant for champions to prepare for their upcoming fights. No one pays any mind as we drop into a huddle between a knight practicing some fancy shield work and a caster muttering rhymes to shout along with their spells even though pointing and shooting is all that’s necessary.

  “That was smart,” Frejha says as blood trickles between her fingers as she tries to hold her wound closed. “I mean, it hurt a lot, but it did what it needed to. I wasn’t sure how to get out of the fight. I promise I didn’t want to hurt you, but there was so much pressure to fight, and you were behaving oddly, not that I think you’re odd. You just didn’t seem yourself.”

  I press a hand over her mouth since her rambling doesn’t seem to be stopping anytime soon and it’s impossible to get a word in otherwise.

  “What’s going on?” I turn to check the faces of as many of the champions as I can see, but none of them are familiar. “Have you seen Willow and Talie?”

  She blinks at me and I realize my hand is still over her mouth. I debate for a moment whether or not I want to release her, but I guess it’s important to get any information from her that I can.

  “Talie?” she says the moment my fingers are no longer touching her face. “Do you have a new member to your little group? That’s good, I guess. Is she a caster? I suppose it doesn’t really matter. It’s not like we’re champions for the same god or anything. I just sort of thought we worked well together.”

  “Have you seen them?” My growl causes her to flinch and grip her throat some more. At this point she’s just trying to garner sympathy from me, and I’ll have none of it. “Oh, you’re fine. Stop being a child. You’re lucky to still be alive.”

  Her eyes drop to the well trampled mossy stone beneath us and she mutters a pathetic, “I was holding back as well, you know.” She sees the look I’m giving her and clears her throat. “I don’t know about this Talie person, but I haven’t seen Willow. Mostly we’re not allowed out of the chambers below unless we’ve been chosen to fight. She wasn’t in the same room as me.”

  I take another look around, half expecting the champions to be staring at us, wondering what we’re doing. Instead, they’re all concentrating on their techniques without so much as a glance in our direction. It’s almost is as though they’re in a trance. That’s when I remember the pixie.

  “Bloody Aliz.”

  I grip the handle of my scythe tight, imagining I’m crushing the wretched little pixie rather than the ivory of the weapon. Whatever she did to us must be what happened to all these other people as well. Some sort of mesmerizing to convince them fighting is all they want to do.

  “Is everyone like this?” I nod to the people surrounding us and Frejha takes a quick look around before dropping her eyes to the ground again as though she’s afraid one of them will make eye contact and demand to fight her on the spot.

  “No,” she says. “I mean, yes, they’re all champions, and ready to fight. But some of them are more aware of what’s going on around them, like us. They usually only let the ones in a trance say up here. The rest have to stay somewhere more secure to make sure they don’t try to escape.”

  Pleasant. I try to find a door or an arch to the garden we came in through, but the entire structure looks the same. Lots of people, seats and walls, but not a whole lot of ways to get out. It likely has something to do with the magic we passed to get in here. No one outside can see in and no one inside can see out. Likely another way to control people.

  With the strength I’m clutching the staff in my hands with at this point, I’m sure the only reason the handle hasn’t broken is because of Kesarre’s magic flowing through its length.

  “I’m sure if Willow and this Talie person are here,” Frejha says in what I think she intends to be a soothing tone, “they’re likely to be down in the cells. Not that I suggest you go down to look for them. The goddess has people everywhere and if you start nosing around, they’re going to catch you and either kill you or throw you back into the ring for another champion to do it for them.”

  As she says the words, an appreciative wave of “ooh” comes from the crowd at some particularly painful event from the fight below.

  “And it won’t even be worth it, because they’re more than likely already dead.”

  The crowd groans again.

  Whatever they’re doing down there, it sounds like it’s not going well for one of them.

  “They’re not dead,” I tell her firmly.

  “No of course not,” she hurries to agree. “I mean, probably not. Hopefully.” She chews on her bottom lip. “It’s just they tend to throw scholars and the like in the ring with people they have no hopes of defeating. Their class just isn’t meant to fight, and so the goddess likes to use them as targets for her favorite champions as a show of her strength.”

  I must be looking angry, because she quickly throws one of her hands up as though to wave away the words.

  “I’m sure that hasn’t happened to Willow though.” She gives a weak smile. “Maybe.”

  I can understand her lack of confidence in Willow’s ability to fight, but I’m sure she’s fine. I’d know if she wasn’t, wouldn’t I?

  “Kesarre?” I both think his name and say it in a whisper to see if that will help my call reach him.

  No response.

  “He can’t come for you, if that’s what you’re hoping for.” Frejha pats my shoulder twice before a glance from me gets her to back off. “I heard some of Olerra’s champions talking. This entire city has been turned into a sanctuary for her, to prevent the other gods from entering.”

  No surprise after seeing the size of the statue in the middle of town, but it still doesn’t explain why he’s not talking to me. Even a cryptic laugh would be better than complete silence. Hadn’t he said my powers would weaken if we were separated for too long?

  “How did you get here?”

  Maybe that should have been my first question when I saw her. After all. The last time we were together, she was trapped and about to be killed. Yet here she is, perfectly fine and from the looks of her… yep, she’s levelled up as well. Which means she must have spent some time fighting or doing similar things to help her gain experience.

  “I don’t remember much,” she says with a touch to her throat. “I mean, I remember everything in the sewers when we were fighting those rats and then Heather showed up, and then it’s sort of a blur. Next thing I knew I was in the middle of fighting against a knight and my magic flared and suddenly everyone was cheering.”

  She must have been charmed the same as me. I wonder if it’s common for the magic to wear off in a battle like that, or if there’s a reason it released us.

  “I guess they must have thought I was still charmed, because they’ve let me have some freedom since.” She shrugs and pulls her staff closer to her chest to hug it against herself. “It gave me a chance to talk to people I shouldn’t have spoken to, not that any of them said anything back. From what I’ve gathered, no one wants to help out a champion of a low-level god since that won’t benefit them in any way.” She flushes and turns away as though she’s embarrassed to have said such a thing. “Not that I mind having Safferro as my goddess. She’s really quite lovely, even if she’s not the most well known. I think more people should give her a chance, though I can see why everyone here follows Olerra. She’s very powerful. Terrifyingly so.”

  Part of me wants to get another glimpse at the towering goddess watching over the fights, but the sensible part of me knows better than to so much as look at her in case she notices the attention. I can only hope she can’t sense I’m thinking about her and turns her gaze towards us. Just in case, I’m going to keep my thoughts firmly on Kesarre and the others.

  “We need to find Willow,” I say. “She’ll know how to deal with this.”

  A fresh roun
d of cheers startles us both and we listen as the announcer declares a new victor using the words “eviscerate,” and “slaughter,” which brings such excitement from those seated above, I’m sure the stadium is going to come down around us. I hope I’m able to keep my fear from my face a little better than Frejha does.

  “Can you get us to the chambers you were talking about?”

  Frejha glances around as several of the champions move past us to crowd near the entrance to the ramp down to the pit. Glints of excitement and eagerness flicker in their eyes as they try to get to the front of the crowd for a better view of the death below.

  “I guess going down’s no worse than any other choice we have.” Frejha grabs my hand to drag me away from the gathering crowd. “Don’t blame me if we’re both killed.”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  How Low Can You Go?

  Frejha pulls me though a thinning crowd of champions who barely notice us brush past. The only time one looks directly at me is when I accidently smash my shoulder into him. For a moment, his eyes are filled with such hatred I steel myself for an attack. His information flashes above his head for a second, showing him to be another reaper, and my heart drops at the knowledge it will be a difficult, maybe impossible fight.

  Frejha tugs at my arm and between the time I glance at her and then back at the reaper, his gaze has returned to the crowd, attempting to see into the pit.

  “Don’t look them in the eye,” Frejha whispers as we duck down to slip under an outstretched arm of an ogre with a tree trunk held out as a weapon. “The magic makes them want to fight and defeat other champions for glory. Or, that’s what it seems to me. Mostly Olerra’s people can keep them under control, but if they think you look like you’re challenging them, they’re more likely to rip off an arm than chat out their feelings.”

  I know she has more experience with the magic controlling these people than I do, but the way she talks, it’s as though she doesn’t think champions outside of here would act exactly the same. If anything, it feels safer here than anywhere else we’ve been, except maybe upstairs in Regine’s cathedral. I mean, the point of champions is for them to fight each other to gain honor for their gods. It’s more surprising the champions aren’t taking advantage of how many others are around, turning this entire place into a giant bloodbath.

  We take a turn past a man with a burly beard and twin hammers strapped to his belt at either hip and into an opening short enough Frejha has to duck to get through. I bump into Frejha’s back the moment we step through the opening as she suddenly stops in front of me. One look around her and I see why. A man with each arm as thick as Frejha’s waist and shoulders practically touching the ceiling so he must slouch with his head down to glare at us fills the space beyond. There’s nowhere to go. Even his information shows up at the height of his chest rather than above his head since it would be in the ceiling if it did.

  Krollop – Champion of Olerra

  Level 4 Caster

  Abilities

  Magic: Blast

  Magic: Elemental Control

  Magic: Minor Illusion

  “Hey.” His voice booms in the tight space, nearly deafening me and causing Frejha to press her hands to her ears with her staff tucked in the elbow of her arm. “Champions not allowed here. Back.”

  He points his meaty hand in the direction we just came and it’s then I see the sliver of wood held between his thumb and finger that I can only guess must be a wand. It looks uncomfortable in his hands, like he’s not entirely sure what to do with it, even though he’s managed to make it to fourth level supposedly wielding the thing. It makes me think about Frejha’s earlier comment about Olerra using the pit to increase her champions’ experience against the weak who don’t have a chance. One blast at Willow or Jameson would likely take them down since they wouldn’t even have the skills to avoid the magic.

  “Hear me?” He talks louder as though he thinks his last comment was made at a whisper. “You go. Not allowed here. Leave.”

  Frejha gives me a worried look and a touch of light builds on the tip of her staff as though she’s considering blasting her way through. There’s no way I could get a shield up in this space to protect us. We’ll get blasted as hard as the guy blocking us.

  I shift my scythe into a pillow and raise my hands to show I’m not a threat and to indicate for Frejha to calm down with her magic, at least for the moment.

  “You’re doing such a good job blocking this entrance,” I say. “How long have you been doing it?”

  He glares down at us and I’m sure he’s not going to fall for such an obvious trick.

  “Three years,” he grunts.

  I allow my surprise to show on my face, though it’s not for the reason I’m pretending. I was expecting him to say a couple of days, maybe a month. I didn’t expect these battles to have been active for so long. That means the game of the gods was going for at least that long. I had no idea. I assumed it all began a few days ago, just before Kesarre found me. The fact it’s been going on for years makes me wonder how much longer it will continue.

  “I could swear you’ve been doing this for at least five,” I tell the guard. “Your skills are truly unmatched.”

  His mouth twists into what I think is a grimace at first but turns out to be a smile. I awkwardly smile back and let my arms settle at my sides.

  “Being as you’re such a seasoned guard,” I say as casually as my pounding heart with allow, “you’ll understand when I tell you the goddess asked us to go down and check on things, so we’d greatly appreciate if you let us past.”

  Krollop’s grimace-smile fades as he squints down at us with a look of what might be either concentration or constipation, it’s hard to tell.

  “You not goddess champions.”

  Too bad. I was hoping he wouldn’t be able to understand our information. Oh well, it just means I have to sell this a little more. I plaster on my best customer service smile and lean into him like an accomplice.

  “We might currently be champions of other gods,” I say, “but we all know who the true goddess is.”

  I lean back and let that sink into his thick mind for a moment. His confusion lasts longer than I’d hoped and I’m afraid I’m going to have to explain myself to him when his expression shifts, and an understanding smile twists his face.

  “Olerra,” he says, though there’s a hint of a question as though he’s afraid he’s guessed wrong.

  “Exactly,” I reassure him. “So, you can understand that if she wants us to go down, we must listen.”

  He nods as best as he can with his head and shoulders pressed against the ceiling. My mind goes back to him spending three years guarding this space and I’m sure his body must be permanently warped to fit in the corridor. His hunched back must be pronounced if you were to see him outside.

  “Thank you for your hard work,” I say as I move to get around him as best as I can in the tight space. “You are an asset to the goddesses’ team of champions.”

  As Frejha follows me down the dirt ramp toward the chambers below, I hear him mutter in what he probably thinks is a quiet, contemplative tone.

  “I am an asset.”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Breaking and Entering

  “That was impressively done,” Frejha says. “I would never have been able to convince a person like that, especially one with skills like he had. I would be too scared.”

  “Work in retail for a few years and you’ll be able to do it easily.” I look the frail woman over and shake my head. “On second thought, don’t do that. It would destroy you.”

  We reach the bottom of the ramp and the chambers Frejha was talking about. I don’t know what I was expecting to find underground, but I suppose I was hoping the outside was a deception and once we got down here there would be some amazing structure with beautiful stone features and all of the luxuries a house can afford. Instead, the space Frejha called chambers are rectangular cells barely larger than a person, bl
ocked in by bars. Held within each section are a handful of champions who are forced to sit or stand since there’s not enough room for all of them to stretch out.

  Although they can see out as easily as we can look in, since there’s nothing more than a few steel bars blocking the view, not even one of them turns to us when we arrive. Most look to be the same as the people upstairs, in a trance and unable to focus on what’s around them.

  Despite the several dozen people mashed into the space, there’s an eerie silence as they all wait for whatever the goddess has planned for them next.

  It doesn’t take long to find Willow and Talie standing at attention in one of the cells together. They’re side-by-side but paying no attention to each other. They might as well be strangers from the blank look in their eyes.

  I rush over to them and grab the bars, shaking them as though I think I’ve somehow become strong enough to bend them open. Nothing happens, which is not really a surprise, so I search for a door, hoping if there’s a lock whoever closed it last was absent-minded enough to leave the key. There’s a huge lock, but no sign of a key anywhere in the room. Our friend at the entrance probably has it on him.

  “Willow.” I don’t want to shout in case that draws down Olerra’s champions, but I also want to break through her trance. “Hey. Wake up. I don’t know how to get you out of here, so I need you to use that big brain of yours and think of a way.”

  Nothing.

  Frejha comes over to stand calmly next to me, her eyes on Talie as she looks the girl over with a critical eye.

  “This is Talie?” She gives a dismissive sniff in the white knight’s direction. “You didn’t say she was a white knight.”

  I ignore whatever strange jealousy thing is going on with her and poke at the keyhole for the cage as though my finger might be able to suddenly become a key. If only Jameson hadn’t run off on us, he’d be able to open these up in no time. Assuming he didn’t fall under the trance as well.

  “Where’s a collector when you need one?” I sigh.