Whom the Gods Fear (Of Gods & Mortals Book 3) Page 11

  Issa led her mother further into the temple, and then to one of the many luxurious cushions in the room and sat her down. She sat next to her, stroking her arm in a comforting manner. Timta relaxed and took a deep breath.

  “I need you to know, I did not expect it. I did not kill Midassa expecting this,” Timta said.

  “Expecting what? And I thought Cass killed Midassa,” Issa said.

  “She did, but with my blade. My boon. She was just an instrument I used to do it. She killed him, but it was only because of me.”

  “What do you mean,” Issa asked.

  Timta shook her head, unwilling to answer the question.

  “It doesn’t matter. When Midassa died, I got everything. Everything he was. It came into me. It was like I was filled to overflowing with it.”

  “What, with what?”

  “Strength! Energy! Power! I left immediately. I couldn’t let Cass see. I had to go. I had to go explore, to feel. Everything, I had to feel it all. But now… now it hurts. The feeling of power, I can barely feel it anymore. Where it was… now it hurts sometimes. I remember what it felt like, when it was new, but now… It will pass. Surely it will pass. Please, daughter, do not let the others know. I do not want them to fear my motives… to think,” Timta stopped talking and closed her eyes.

  That you want to consume them all, Issa finished her mother’s thought, her own mind grinding through this new information greedily.

  “You’re a mess,” Issa said, “they can’t see you like this.”

  “If… if I had another. Another god. If I could kill one more, I know it would solve everything. It’s been nine days since I killed Midassa. I could get nine more if I had another. That would be enough.”

  Issa kept the look of shock from her face. Timta, so casually speaking of killing another god, it seemed like madness to her. But, she needed Timta still, for just a little longer. She focused her mind and called Kepsos to them.

  The god appeared. He still looked nervous and wary as he approached Issa.

  “Yes, Issa? I swear, I won’t cause any more trouble. I see the truth of the situation, you don’t need to further scold me,” he began, trying to look more confident than he felt.

  “Mother?” Issa said, gesturing to Kepsos.

  Kepsos turned to Timta then back to Issa.

  “What is going on here? Am I to be made an example of? I demand an explanation! I’ve done nothing wrong, certainly far less than your indiscretions, Issa, traitor child.”

  As Kepsos glared at Issa, Timta stepped forward, pulling a knife from her waist. Her delicate feet closed the gap between herself and Kepsos in an instant, and the knife slid quietly across his throat. Issa watched as his blood streamed down Timta’s impossibly white robes and spilled over her golden sandals, seeping between her toes.

  Timta’s whole body glowed for a moment; she looked as if she was floating just above the ground. Then it was gone. Timta’s eyes focused on Issa as she dropped Kepsos’ body to the ground. The sound of it caused Issa to flinch. She repressed a shudder of horror at her mother, but the revulsion was quickly replaced with awe when she saw the new light of power in her mother’s eyes. She reached up and touched her mother’s face, arcs of light reaching out to meet her palm before they touched. Her hand blazed with warmth that came from something deeper than Timta’s skin.

  “What… what is this, mother?”

  “This is how we will win the war.”

  The grand boat was being packed at a rate that would have impressed the most experienced sea goers. The Serenade, as she had been named, was one of the finest ships in Faylendar’s fleet, and it was the fastest boat Callan had. He spared no expense in outfitting the ship for Cass’ voyage either. Food, supplies and even goods that could be traded, just in case that would be required for the group to successfully complete their quest, were quickly disappearing from the dock into the recesses of the ship’s hold. Callan stood on the dock watching a phalanx of men haul the cargo, his face fighting to hide the delight that danced beneath it. He made no attempt, however, at disguising his joy that the group he had once travelled with were leaving when he had heard it early that morning.

  “You’re leaving?” Callan practically squeaked with glee. “But the dragons are still watching us, right? And the warriors, they’re still coming to Faylendar?”

  Melody, his ever patient wife, gave him a look that he missed at that time, but the chat she had with him shortly after breakfast could not have been clearer. The state of the whole of Faylendar, perhaps even all of Tanavia, was at stake and Callan, she said, should not act like such a prat about his own relatively minor contribution toward saving it.

  Callan hid his thoughts behind a veil of kingly calm the rest of the day, but the speed with which he commanded the ship be readied was evidence Callan was eager to see the small party departing his shores. In only a handful of hours a royal ship was procured and outfitted for a swift journey to Ledina, the continent to the west of Centria. The journey itself would be swift, as Faylendar sat snugly on the west coast of Centria, its ports the closest to the trading city of Tendo, the largest city on Ledina and where the red fur covered, human-like creatures called Cartans lived in abundance.

  Cass was standing next to Callan, squinting into the sun. She sent Gunnarr and Nat off to round up a crew for the ship. It was far too large for their own small group to sail on their own. Callan had offered his own shipmen, but Cass was worried about the impending war and the real possibility they would be more needed in Faylendar, called to the defend the great city, than crewing for her. She trusted that Gunnarr could round up some competent volunteers who weren’t part of Faylendar’s armed forces. She had no idea when this calm before the storm would pass. Most of the people were already starting to go back to life as usual. The appearance of the dragons had frightened them into caution for a few days, but now the market was back to bustling, the pubs full to the brim and the ports full of trade. Cass would have preferred the populace stay on high alert, but she knew that might also easily incite panic. She hoped the people would be ready when the time came.

  “I’m glad to see trade has resumed,” Callan said casually, as if reading Cass’ thoughts.

  “I don’t know if that is such a good thing. What if the people are caught off guard? If they were ready…” Cass was cut off by Callan.

  “Ready for what exactly? You can’t tell me. The annoying little djinn you’ve brought back to the palace can’t say, and they are powerful beings. Which, speaking of,” Callan cleared his throat and glanced at Melody to make sure she wasn’t scowling at him. Melody however, was entranced by the men working speedily on the ship and was not paying close attention. Callan lowered his voice some and sweetened his tone to avoid the attention of his wife.

  “You think maybe they might be interested in sending a few replacements my way? A dozen or so to help shore up our defenses? I’ve heard rumors they are rich, so they’d probably come out of the goodness of their hearts.”

  Callan’s hopeful look amused Cass. She shook her head

  “Callan, if you are so unfortunate to see djinn after we go, take it as a sign the people should flee. Aside from Manfred, they are not our friends.”

  Callan sniffed in an annoyed manner at the news, but Cass’ serious tone was enough for him to understand she was not just ignoring his request. He straightened his tunic.

  “Well, I suppose it was a foolish idea anyway. For such magical creatures your djinn sure seems quite clumsy and slow. And not very magical in the slightest. I saw him tear his jacket yesterday. He seemed upset about it, fussed on as if it was this great ordeal, but did nothing to fix it. When he first got here he was impeccably dressed. Now he’s looking, ah, I guess the best word for it is tattered. Is that how they normally behave? The stories all talk of them being godlike. I don’t think I’ve ever known a god, aside from that old hag, to be caught in tatters.”

  Callan turned to inspect Cass closely, trying to catch a glimpse of
her true feelings. He had noticed her wariness around the djinn, and it concerned him. He didn’t personally care for Cass, but he had heard enough whisperings among the group that aided him years ago to know things were dire on Tanavia, and they might be the only ones capable of stopping the doom at hand. If they had somehow gotten themselves mixed up with a spy of some sorts, it didn’t bode well. But Cass kept her fears to herself, her face exposing nothing of her inner thoughts on the matter.

  Melody noticed the silence and turned to see Cass staring blankly off into the distance. It was a mask Melody had often seen the young warrior don. It was also a normally a precursor to her husband becoming impatient with Cass, so she broke in. Her voice had a strong effect on Callan, who seemed entranced by her, even after all the years they’d spent together.

  “Is there anything else at all we can get you for your journey? I want to make sure we’ve done as much as we possibly can to help out.”

  “No,” Cass said, smiling down at Melody. “We have more than enough for any eventualities thanks to both of you. I know it’s been trying having us here. You’ve been very gracious. I hope one day we will be worthy of all the sacrifices you’ve made for us.”

  As Cass said these words, the doubt crept in her mind again. Would they matter at all in the end? Were they merely, as Oshia had pounded into her head day after day for two years, less than grains of sand before the power of the gods? She pushed these thoughts violently down. She knew her doubts could only hurt their mission. Everyone was risking a great deal on the slim hope that the small band of warriors could help save the people of Faylendar, let alone the whole of Tanavia. The blackened paper beneath the images on the scrolls Viola had been studying the last week pressed on her optimism. It could not be as she feared, that the doom approaching was the end of life on Tanavia.

  If only Manfred would be honest with me, Cass thought. Manfred had boarded the ship without even speaking to her. She wondered if he were having a hard time keeping his thoughts from her and was avoiding any chance of accidentally being caught in a lie.

  She decided to put it out of her mind for the moment. Her thoughts were interrupted as a large, burly group of men and women approached the ship, headed by Nat and Gunnarr. The sight lifted her spirits. They would not be alone in their quest. The warriors were ready to fight alongside them, despite their ignorance of exactly what they were fighting.

  “As you can see,” Nat said grinning, “finding help wasn’t hard.”

  Cass could feel some of the tension in her body release. This at least, she thought, had gone right. She knew not to assume leadership among the group of warriors. They would answer to Gunnarr on the ship, as he was the captain and knew the seas best of them, but warriors were not members of an army. They each had their own ways to solve problems. And their comradery was tenuous at times. To outsiders, it seemed they all were friends, particularly if one ever visited one of the famed warrior pubs and inns. Laughing and slapping each other on the backs over a pint of ale and a story, they seemed to all the world brothers in arms. But they were each their own masters, and chose their own quests. They answered to no one but themselves. With a group of warriors, it was best to simply lay out the tasks that needed to be done, and let the warriors decide for themselves what job they would tackle. That might mean an unpleasant mission would be left up to Cass or Gunnarr to complete, but it was still worth it to have their aid, such was the skill and talent of the group, despite their lack of cohesiveness.

  So Cass stood back while Gunnarr began asking who knew how to perform certain duties on the ship. The jobs were doled out slowly, as there was some minor bickering who was the better cook, who was less afraid of heights, who had the greatest arm strength for quickly raising sail. It soon became obvious they had more than enough people to work all the jobs, so they decided shifts would be in order, even though the trip itself would last less than two days on such a large sailing vessel.

  As the men and women trundled up onto the boat, Gunnarr pulled aside one of the warriors who Cass failed to notice. His dark red fur and dog like face alone should have caught her attention, beside the fact that he stood at least a head taller than Gunnarr, who more than once had been referred to as a giant. He should have stood out like a signal fire in the group, so Cass assumed he wanted to remain apart from the other warriors on purpose, keeping out of sight so as not to be associated with the “rabble.” This was an attitude she expected from the Cartan. They were not a sociable people.

  Cass looked sideways at the silent Cartan. She knew not to make direct eye contact until he greeted her as a friend. She also knew it was highly possible she’d never be greeted as a friend, as Cartan were notoriously distant from humans and the other intelligent creatures, choosing only rarely to befriend someone not of their own species. It was awkward, but necessary, because she knew how important this warrior could be to their journey through Ledina.

  “I am Cass,” she stated simply. She did not know if the Cartan would address her back or not, but she knew enough of their customs to know how to properly introduce herself.

  The Cartan stared at Cass directly, challenging her to look back at him, but she continued to look away. Gunnarr spoke next, his eyes directed at Cass. She realized he too was not considered a friend by the Cartan.

  “This is Droog. When he heard where we were headed, he offered his aid.”

  “He will be a valuable asset.”

  Callan and Melody knew the intricacies of dealing with the Cartan and remained silent, looking at nothing in particular. Callan loathed having to deal with the Cartans, but they were good trade partners, often bringing rare goods, metals and materials from Ledina that no one else dealt in because of the elf situation. He did not envy anybody who would have to spend time on Ledina. He actually surprised himself by feeling sorry for Cass and crew. Given the Cartan’s brusque attitude towards outsiders when visitors in a foreign land, he couldn’t imagine they were likely to take kindly to Cass’ mission to explore Cartan lands looking for a mad seer that just might be somewhere in them.

  The Cartan said nothing while he examined Cass for a few moments longer. Apparently satisfied, he turned and mounted the ramp into the ship without another word. Cass visibly relaxed and turned to Gunnarr.

  “Well, let’s hope no one gets too drunk to remember how to deal with him. The last thing we need is a warrior fight breaking out on the ship at sea.”

  Gunnarr crossed his arms and watched the Cartan board.

  “I think despite his customs he’ll overlook any slights on the ship. No matter how superior he feels, he’s not stupid. He’s outnumbered. Now once we get to Carta, then we should be wary. He’ll have to save face among his people should we embarrass him. But it’s worth the risk. Not many Cartan join the ranks of warriors. I was lucky to find this one.”

  Viola arrived then, a young woman at her side. She looked perhaps a touch older than Viola, but not by much. Her dark hair hung braided tightly down her back. Her brown eyes were fierce, despite the puffy redness that clearly indicated the woman had been crying recently. Her eyes narrowed when they fell on Cass, whose smile faltered under the angry gaze.

  “This is Julia,” Viola said. She gripped Julia’s hands in her own as she turned toward her. “I’ve spoken of her often, but I really should have introduced her to you before this. Nat and Gunnarr have met her, but, well, Cass, this is Julia. Julia, Cass.”

  “I’m pleased to meet you. Viola has told me much about you.”

  Cass’ words did nothing to soften the look in Julia’s eyes. The silence became uncomfortable and Cass could see Viola was becoming nervous.

  “Well, Callan, I think we’re all here now, so this is farewell,” Cass finally said, breaking the silence.

  Callan barely succeeded in disguising his pleasure.

  “Good luck. I hope you find exactly what we need.”

  In this, Callan was completely sincere. He did not want their mission to be in vain. His kingdom was countin
g on them. He knew that much despite everything he complained about. Cass, Gunnarr and Nat boarded the ship. Melody pulled on Callan’s hand to move him away from the tense couple that remained. Viola and Julia were the last ones standing on the docks. All the rest of the people were either actively working to launch the ship or on board.

  “I’ll be fine,” Viola insisted, still clutching Julia’s hands in her own.

  “How will I possibly know that?”

  Julia pulled away from Viola. She closed her eyes tight, wishing away the frightened feelings welling up within her.

  “There were dragons in the sky, Vi. Dragons. This is not some adventure with good times and bright songs. This is deadly serious. You’ve spent most of your days up in that study since your return at the castle. We’ve hardly had time to reconnect, and now you’re leaving.”

  Viola felt her convictions crumble. She looked up at the ship. She always felt like she had a purpose when she was with Nat and Gunnarr. It softened the blow of growing out of her magic, which she felt was her one gift. She identified herself as an enchanter for so long, the loss of it was devastating to her feeling of self-worth. Gunnarr and Nat helped her discover that she had other strengths, foremost her keen mind. Applying it to help them made her feel useful and strong again, much in the same way enchanting had. But it was not only those things that made Viola wish to be a part of the expedition. She wanted to help because something deep inside her insisted she was vital to this mission. That she needed to be there. She saved their lives before, and she suspected she might need to do so again.

  “I need to go, Julia. I need to help them. Can’t you see?”

  “No. I can’t see. All I see is death may be coming soon for all of us. And all I want is to spend the last few days with the person I love.”

  “I don’t want to spend just a few days with you. I want to spend years and years with you. I need to help make that happen,” Viola once again pulled Julia’s hands into hers. Julia looked up into Viola’s eyes and could see there was no persuading her otherwise.