An Unexpected Deity (Book 7) (8 page)

“You are leaving us?” Kestrel asked in surprise.

“My duty was to be your guide, and now that you are with this gnome you know, you can easily make your way to the village of Proetec,” Bradstree answered.  “I am anxious to return home to my family.

“I will have an interesting story to tell them,” he smiled finally, and Kestrel smiled back.

“Safe travels to you,” Kestrel told him, echoed by the others, including the imps, as they watched him reverse course and start climbing back towards the mountain heights to the north.

“How was your guide?” Hansen asked when Bradstree was at a distance.  “His village is not a friendly place – the people there are not open to new ideas, usually.”

“We exposed him to many new ideas!” Wren laughed.  “He may not be welcomed back home.”

“Shall we go down to the friendly village now?” Hansen asked.  “Follow me,” he said, and they began to walk through the forests that turned the valley into a green and verdant home for his people.

They journeyed for half a day more, and arrived at the village in the late afternoon.

“Look at who you have found!” Hansen’s father Proetec exclaimed when Kestrel’s assorted group entered the village clearing.  The journey had been pleasant, walking among the peaceful trees of the temperate plateau between the mountain chains.

The village erupted in activity as the group of elves and imps entered the settlement.  The houses all looked new and fresh, built with recently cut trees and stones that had been excavated.  The residents came streaming out of their homes as the sounds of the welcome spread.  The gnomes were astonished to see the imps, who had not accompanied Kestrel during his first visit to see them in their old village, and they were intrigued to see the two elven maidens who accompanied him as well.

All in all, the residents were pleased to see Kestrel.  All but one.

An elderly crone of a gnome sat on a split tree trunk bench in front of her small house, and watched the cavalcade go by.

“I don’t know why you’re so blasted happy to see him,” she spoke loudly to Proetec.  “Do you remember the last time we suffered a visit from him?

“He dragged your son away from his honeymoon.  He brought stories of terrible things to come.  He went through the
Garrant Spark
that no one in our life time has gone through,” she recited a litany of complaints.

“I’ll wager you he’s not here just to visit and say hello.  Odds are pretty fair that he’s here because he needs something from us,” she said directly to Proetec.  “”Go on and ask him – see if this is just social.”

“Brunhil, you’re always seeing the worst in the world,” the village leader said.

“Kestrel, you’re not here to ask anything, are you?  Tell her,” he urged.

“I am actually here for a reason,” Kestrel said.  “And I do need your help.”

The crowd around them grew suddenly quiet, and Brunhil grinned a smug, toothless smirk.

“The Viathins are returning to our land.  The water skin that we put over the mountain lake last year, when we were on the
Garrant Spark,
has somehow stopped working.  I am told to go back to the lake and find a way to shut off the Viathins again.  And I need the help of your village – I need a guide to show me the way to get to the mountain lake,” he explained.

“That doesn’t sound bad.  Ask him if there’s more,” Brunhil shouted from her seat.

Kestrel sighed, as all eyes turned from him to her to him again.  The crowd was still friendly, but no longer ebullient.

“There is more.  The Viathins’ god,” Kestrel paused.  “I thought I had killed him, but a part of his spirit survived somehow, in another land where some of his worshipers stayed.  He has stayed alive and grown stronger.  He has kidnapped a god of the humans,” Kestrel waited as the crowd gasped, “And he has also taken an elven god.

“He is using their powers, and he is coming back to the lands of the Inner Seas to resume his destruction and murder here.  I have to go to the other places, and try to set our gods free, and find a way to fight.”

There was unsettled murmuring, a sound that was growing in volume.

“Do not worry.  Wren is my cousin, and the best warrior I know among the elves,” Kestrel told the crowd.  “And Putienne is more ferocious than you would ever guess.  And the imps,” he motioned his hand over his head, “are going with me as well.

“I only need a guide to take me to the lake where we left the water skin, if your people will help me,” he finished up.  He had not expected to have to make his plea for assistance so quickly.  It had not been prepared or rehearsed, and he knew it was not polished, but it had been the truth, and from his heart, and he trusted the people of the village to make the right decision.

“Well, at least the elf is honest,” Brunhil harrumphed.

“Let him tell his story, but let him unpack and wash up first, for Corrant’s sake,” she scolded Proetec and the crowd.  “Take him and his group to the guest house now.”

“That’s what we were going to do before you stopped us!” Hansen protested, and then the whole entourage resumed its stroll down the center of the town.

“Here’s where Greta and I live,” Hansen pointed out as they veered towards a house on the outskirts of the settlement.

“Is that who I think it is?” a voice floated out of the home, and then a very pregnant-appearing gnome stepped through the door.

“Did you need any further proof that Kestrel-tomcat has been among these gnomes?” Odare asked the other imps, who had flown quietly overhead up to that point.

The whole flock broke into laughter, and all eyes among the gnomes looked up at the chortling imps.

“They are pleased to see how healthy this little mother looks,” Wren quickly explained to the gnomes, even as she tried unsuccessfully to hide her own broad smile after hearing Odare’s quip.

Kestrel ignored the comments, and stepped forward to hug Greta.   Through the
Garrant Spark
they had been united with one another and with Hansen as well, and together they had tracked Hansen down after he had been taken prisoner by the Uniontown forces in the mountains.  They were close friends, and the affection they felt for each other was genuine.

“Look at you!” Kestrel laughed as he released his hug and held Greta at arm’s length.  “Do you know if it is a boy or a girl?” he asked.

“we have done all the things the old mothers of the village tell us to do, and half the time they say boy, and half the time they say girl!” she giggled.  “There is no telling.”

“There will be soon enough,” Kestrel consoled her.   “And whether it’s a girl or a boy, or one of each, you’ll make it happy to have such a great mom!” he told her.  “No other gnome has ever been able to claim both parents were part of a
Garrant Spark
, after all!”

They laughed together, then Kestrel and the others were shown to their cabin, a clean, two room structure, where they were told to unpack their burdens and relax while the village hastily prepared a meal to celebrate their arrival.

“Will we really spend the night here, Kestrel friend, or will you take us to the healing spring this evening again?” Mulberry asked.

“These are my friends,” Kestrel began.

“Even the grumpy one, Brunhil?” Wren asked archly.

“And so I would like to spend time with them tonight, and probably tomorrow too,” he ignored Wren, and observed the forlorn faces of the imps as he spoke.  “But that does not mean we will not go to the spring, after the meal, after the talk is over,” he added, and watched the faces light up.

Wren and Putienne were whispering feverishly, he noted.

“Kestrel,” Wren spoke up.  “Often, a guest will offer some type of gift to their host.  Putienne has offered to go back to Oaktown – if the imps will carry her there – and ask the cook to prepare some treats to share with your gnome friends.”

There was a twinkle in Wren’s eye, and a desperate, pleading look in Putienne’s, Kestrel noted.

Kestrel was sure that Putty would bring some type of tasty treat back, and he suspected that she would manage to see Remy as well while she was at the Oaktown manor.

“I think it sounds like a good idea.  You’ll have to ask the imps if they’ll carry you, of course,” he replied to the young girl.

Her eyes immediately turned from his face to look up towards the dozen imps near the ceiling, floating effortlessly.

“Putienne-sweet-friend,” Acanthus spoke up, “I will help carry you to the home of Kestrel.”

“I will go too,” Killcen added.

“Then so will I,” Odare included herself in the expedition.

“Three imps – that’s what you needed.  You’re free to go,” Wren told the girl, who jumped up and stood in expectation of instantaneous transportation.

“Thank you, Kestrel.  I’ll tell everyone you said hello,” she waved at him as the imps dropped down around her.

“Be good!” Kestrel said, just as she disappeared.

“She’ll be fine, Kestrel.  She can protect herself, you know,” Wren told him, coming over to put her arm around his shoulder to comfort him.  “Come on, let’s go for a walk and forget about your little personal obsession for a while.”

“I know she’ll be safe,” Kestrel agreed.  “You’re all free to go anywhere you want,” he told the imps, looking up as he let Wren guide him towards the door of the cabin.  “I’ll call you when we need you,” he told them, and then he and Wren left the cabin on foot, as the entire squad of imps, except for Stillwater, all vanished.

“I’ll accompany you two, if you don’t mind,” the imp said as he swooped down through the door frame and exited the building.

“Come along, Stillwater,” Wren welcomed him.

“You don’t want to go see Creata?” Kestrel asked, as they turned and followed a trail that led out of the village, and into the wilderness of the forested plateau.

“No, I’ll wait until after the dinner with the gnomes tonight, then go back to see him again.  He’ll be delighted, naturally,” she said breezily.

As they both started to laugh, there was a sudden shock of bright light in the sky, a powerful, penetrating flash whose brilliance was so extraordinary, so stunning, that both Kestrel and Wren felt their senses overload with the energy that poured down upon them, and they stumbled to the ground.

“Kestrel?  Kestrel, what happened?” Wren called out, fear evident in her voice.  She was blinking her eyes rapidly, and she was blind.

Kestrel groaned aloud.

“Kestrel?  Are you alright?” Wren was on her hands and knees, crawling in the direction of the groaning sound.

“Wren, what happened?” he asked.  “Wren, I can’t see,” he said aloud, then felt her hand reach out to his arm.

“There, is that you?” she asked, their hands slid towards one another, and clasped each other tightly.  “I can’t see either,” she said, with anguish in her voice.

“What happened, Kestrel?” she asked.

“I don’t know.  I can’t imagine,” he replied.

“Stillwater?” Kestrel called.  “Are you here, Stillwater?” he asked.

“I can see a little now, I think,” Wren spoke up.  “I’m starting to see light and dark.”

“Stillwater?” Kestrel called again, but heard no answer.

They both began to rapidly recover their vision, and when they did, they saw that Stillwater was unconscious, tangled in the tree limbs overhead.  Kestrel climbed up to retrieve the imp and carried him down.

As they both continued to experience improvement in their vision, they hurriedly carried their friend back to their cabin, even as they saw numerous gnomes scurrying around the village in a panic, reacting to the same bright light.

“Mulberry, Mulberry, Mulberry!” Kestrel called, as Wren straightened Stillwater’s limbs while he lay unconscious on the bed.  “Odare?” he then called.  “Killcen? Acanthus?  Dewberry?” his voice faded into hopelessness as no imps responded to his calls.

They heard a knock on the door, and Wren hurried over.  “Are you alright?  Do you know what happened?” Hansen asked as soon as she opened the door.

“No, we don’t know.  We were walking in the woods and got knocked down.  Is everyone okay?” she asked.

“Hansen!” a gnome woman ran up.  “It’s Greta; she going into labor!”

The two rushed away, and Wren hurried back over to Kestrel’s side.

At that moment, Stillwater groaned.

“Oh, I have a skin of water from the healing spring!” Kestrel recollected.  He retrieved the water, and soaked a cloth in it, then gently rubbed the wet cloth on Stillwater’s face, causing the imp to pass out again.

“Great!” Wren exclaimed, seeing Stillwater once again unconscious.

“Let’s go outside,” Kestrel suggested.  “Let’s look around.”

They left the cabin, and once they were outside, both immediately looked up at the sun.

“Wren, do you see what I see?” Kestrel asked.

“Kestrel, what is it?  What does it mean?” his cousin responded, as they both stared at the sun through slitted eyes.

The sun was speckled with large spots of red, a bloody disfiguring of the bright face they had never known to change before.