Enchanter (Book 7) (31 page)

There was only one flamesister standing vigil at night, so I sent her to bed and had the sanctuary to myself.  I then placed thermomantically protective spells around the Everfire – no need to burn the place down while I was working.  I wanted that fire hot, hotter than the building would be able to stand without magical protection.  I’d determined that the flame in the enchantment could be affected – pour magical power into it, it got hotter, especially if there was adequate oxygen. 

With magic, the Everfire would have all of the oxygen it could ask for.  My baculus – I had named it Insight – told me that the temperature was around five hundred degrees.  After I gingerly pushed six small rough spheres of the material into the Everfire with the fireproof end of the baculus, I stepped back, activated the protection spells, and began feeding it oxygen.  Within minutes the color of flame grew significantly brighter, and Insight told me that the heat had doubled.

I took a step back and mopped my brow and almost stepped into a goddess.

“Pretty,” Briga, goddess of fire, said as she stepped around me and regarded her creation.  “What exactly are you trying to do?”

“I’m just screwing around,” I dismissed.  “Trying out some theories I have.  What brings a nice goddess like you to temple at this time of night?”  I’d almost gotten used to interacting with divinities, now.  In a lot of ways they were just like regular people.  In a lot of ways they were not. 

“Your intuition serves you well,” she nodded, approvingly.  “But I think you’ll find a more impressive effect if you take the temperature up to five thousand degrees.”

“Won’t that melt the temple?  And about half of the town?”

“Please,” she said, rolling her eyes.  “You think this is my first campfire?” She raised her hand and suddenly the Everfire increased in intensity until it was flickering blue in places.  I could feel her magic augmenting my protection spells, so that there was almost no increase in heat outside of the glowing barrier that surrounded the flame.  “There,” she said with satisfaction.  “That should do it.  Give it about half an hour.  That should give us time to talk.”

“We need to talk?” I asked, surprised. 

“I think we do,” she said, calmly.  “I’ve heard you’ve been seeing another goddess on the side.”

Ishi.  Of course.

“It meant nothing,” I dismissed.  “It was a one-time thing.  I was under the influence of bad magic.  There may have been wine involved,” I said, defensively.

Briga smiled indulgently.  “It’s not spiritual infidelity I’m concerned with – I’m not a particularly jealous goddess, until I am.  No, Minalan, what concerns me is the nature of the goddess you had interactions with.”

“It really wasn’t anything I could control,” I admitted, seriously. 

“I’m aware,” she said, comfortingly.  “But leaving aside the trauma for a moment, there are things you have to understand about the nature of divinity.  Things you really should be aware of before you go making promises to new gods.”

“I’m pretty new at this,” I pointed out. 

“And you have always eschewed theurgy,” she nodded.  “But when the nature of the gods is of concern, there are different classes.  There are the Cosmic Gods, the demiurgic forces that rarely, if ever, manifest in this realm.  There are the local divinities-of-place, river goddesses and grotto gods, gods of the wild and nature.  They can manifest but their power is low, and they are confined to their precincts. 

“Then there are the elemental gods, like me,” she said, slowly walking around the Everfire.  “Fire, water, wind, the land, the sea, the sky, gravity, the sun, the moon – natural phenomenon and important elements get represented in the divine matrix, and eventually settle on a deity, once humanity’s collective subconscious has its way.  We’re more powerful, and can manifest pretty much anywhere within human lands, once we are properly invoked.  There are more culturally-derived gods, like Herus, who come to manifest as the result of a great need or to fulfil some purpose important to humanity, like travel.  Or stealing.

“But then there are the Primal Divinities,” she said, a note of warning in her voice.  “Apart from the Cosmic Gods, the Primal Gods are among the most capricious and dangerous.  Far less civilized than the cultural or elemental gods.  And you have only yourselves to blame.”

“Us?  You mean humans?  What did we do?”

“The Primal Divinities arise from the darkest places of the human subconscious – where desire and longing meet fear and terror.  You know Ishi as the Goddess of Love and Sex, and treat her lighter aspects with due respect, but that is just one facet of her deep and powerful manifestation.  Ishi represents the primal forces of Nature.  The unremitting desire to reproduce.  To bond.  It’s implicit in every human-derived lifeform, and even among the Alon and the Seafolk it has power.”

“I don’t see what’s so dangerous about that.”

“I know,” she said, sadly.  “That’s why we’re having this conversation.  Sex is one of the most dangerous elements of the human condition. People will do just about anything for sex.”

“I’ve never—”

“Most people are fairly reasonable about it,” she said, interrupting me, “most of the time, but when that primal part of their soul does eventually manifest, there is little a human being cannot accomplish to achieve what they think they desire.  Certainly your own experiences should confirm that for you,” she said, eyeing me.

Isily certainly did get what she wanted.  I couldn’t argue witnessing some truly inane acts of foolishness in connection to affairs of the heart.  And places lower. 

“I think I see your point,” I sighed.

“I don’t think you do, Minalan,” she continued.  “Your gender is part of the problem.  Men have a very simplistic approach to sex.  Women, on the other hand, have a very, very sophisticated approach to sex.”

“In my experience it’s usually been more about enthusiasm than sophistication,” I said, recalling a few exceptional memories from my youth. 

She rolled her eyes again.  “Sophistication in
approach
, not
technique
.  I swear to me, everything in the universe with a penis is
stupid
!  You were focused on the physical, which is what men do.  Every woman you’ve ever bedded has been there for entirely different reasons than just base lust.  For women, sex is so intrinsically intertwined with the context of our lives that every encounter has purpose, in some corner of their mind.  Yes, even those lustful ones,” she said, before I could raise the objection.

“And that’s what Ishi represents: not just the primal urgency of sex for biologic reproduction, which is potent enough a domain; no, Ishi further embodies female sexuality, in all of its most exaggerated forms.  Every scheming ingénue and coquette, every scorned woman, every calculating village girl who set her cap for a particular boy, every horny widow looking to improve her fortunes through the use of her virtue . . . every whore, every slut, every noble wife with a secret lies within that divine being.  She has every woman in Callidore’s history to draw upon.  And she has motives that she alone understands.  She is perhaps one of the most dangerous gods you could have invoked.”

“She invoked herself, sort of,” I said, a little irritated.  “After . . . I take it you know about Isily?” I asked, not really wanting to discuss it.

“I do,” she said, sympathetically.  “In the sense I know she’s . . . involved with you.”

I realized that there hadn’t been a flame in the chamber, that night.  Briga can witness anything in the presence of a flame, but the glow of the Snowflake had been what had illuminated the crime. 

“Well, she got a hell of a lot more involved,” I grumbled.  “She surprised me.  Tricked me.  Trapped me.  She drugged my wine and waited until I was vulnerable, and then she . . .
used
me.  Twice.  She got what she wanted – she’s pregnant again – and now I have another illegitimate child out there.  According to Ishi, there are three more of my bastards out there in the world, somewhere, too.”

“She raped you!” Briga said, enunciating the word, her eyes set with horror and sympathy.  “You were powerless!”

“I was careless!” I snapped.  “The truth is, I should have taken care of Isily years ago, but didn’t because I was hoping the whole thing would just quietly fade away.  Now she’s married to Dunselen, whom I
also
should have dealt with before now, and with royal patronage they’re both nearly out of my power.  Now he’s going to be raising my bastard, while my poor wife is ignorant of all of this!”

“And you are ridden with guilt and shame,” she said, sympathetically.

“Because I
am
guilty!” I snarled, a lot louder and with more emotion than I expected.  “Regardless of Isily or Dunselen, I had it in my power to stop this madness before it could continue, and I
ignored
it!”

“Did you not have good reasons for that?”

“I had selfish reasons for that,” I said, sullenly.  “I didn’t want to get my hands dirty.  I figured if I just stood back and kept an eye on things, then I could keep them from getting to the point where I’d need to make a decision I didn’t want to make.  I was busy with the war, with Sevendor, with . . . everything else.  It seemed like a minor detail.”

“And now it is what is compelling this relentless drive to create,” she pointed out, nodding toward the brightly glowing clay spheres in the Everfire.  “You’ve barely spent time with your wife and children, you’ve buried yourself in the minutia of enchantment, you’ve been dreaming up new things to occupy your mind so that you don’t have to think about the guilt you feel you bear.”

“And that’s a problem?” I asked, challenging her.

“Are you kidding?  I’m a goddess of creation and inspiration.  I don’t care all that much about where your motives come from, as long as something new and pretty is forged.  But you’re not making horseshoes or baking bread, here,” she pointed out.  “You’re building items of power such as have never been created by humanity.  I merely wanted to bring to your attention what was fueling this drive.”

“And what good does rubbing my nose in it do?” I asked.

“I’m not rubbing your nose in it, Minalan,” she sighed.  “Just making you aware.  The process of creation is always built on such primal driving forces – and the greater the tortured soul creating, the greater the creation.  Be it art, magic, music, or anything creative.  Happy people just do not create amazing wonders – they’re too busy being happy.  Your pain and anguish is making pretty things.”

“I’m glad it’s good for something,” I said, gruffly.  “Was this supposed to be helping me?”

“It
is
helping you,” she assured me.  “Who else have you talked to this about?”

“Who
could
I?” I demanded.  “Not exactly the sort of thing you can go see the castle chaplain about.  And
why
should I?  What’s done is done.  Ishi was clear about that: I can’t touch mother or child without upsetting some weird arcane balance, or something.”

“Minalan, you have to remember something, when dealing with Ishi: she isn’t just as deceptive as any woman, she’s as deceptive as
every
woman.  I cannot speak to her sphere, but I would take every word that comes out of those pretty, pouty lips with caution.”

I arched an eyebrow.  “Was that a note of jealousy I detected?”

She put her hand on her hips and glared at me.  “Did you think that the gods were immune from each others’ influence?  I am a goddess, but I am also a woman.  That means I am subject to those powers her sphere invokes.  Including jealousy.”

“Awww!”

“She’s the most beautiful woman possible, by definition.  While that inspires lust and other emotions in men, did you think that women respond the same?  No, we cannot help but compare ourselves to the divine principal of feminine sexuality, and forever find ourselves wanting.  I can be aware of it and accept it without allowing it to rule me.”

“Then you’re more adept than most women I know,” I chuckled.  “A jealous goddess . . . so what would you inspire in her?  I’m curious,” I explained.

“A desire to make muffins?  Domesticity and sexuality are intertwined,” she reasoned.  “Art and poetry, in the abstract sphere.  Always good for impressing a suitor.  And of course there’s the divine vengeance angle.  I tend to specialize in crimes against children, but occasionally that lines up with the vengeance of a jilted suitor, or some other powerful sexual or romantic notion.”

“So she makes you jealous, you make her want to bake, paint, and kill former lovers,” I nodded.  “I can see how you might have an uneasy relationship.  What about . . . your divine
libido
?” I teased.  “Certainly a healthy young goddess—”

“I’ll have you know I am nearly seven hundred years old, from my first manifestation,” she chided.  “And yes, I’ve had my share of lovers over the centuries.  Usually notable patrons of my sphere, or worthy artisans.  Occasionally another divinity, if the occasion called for it.  Is this relevant?” she demanded.

“Just curious, like I said.  All we get down here are myths and legends – it’s nice to know that the goddess of fire gets her ashes hauled occasionally.”

“
So
glad it amuses you,” she said, far more icily than you would expect from a fire goddess.