Goddess (41 page)

And at that moment the pillars exploded into iridescent white light, blinding Lazar. They burned so brightly they looked to be on fire.

‘What is happening?’ Lazar called, his eyes tightly shut, holding his son close in Ana’s bloodied robe.

The Mother is dead
.

‘Ana? You mean—’

Ana has died with your name on her lips
.

Lazar lost all sense of who he was for the next few moments. All he was aware of was the newborn cradled to his chest and the heartrending sound he knew passed through the child as he let his grief rip forth, throwing back his head, falling helplessly to his knees and howling his despair. Together, father and son, light blazing all about them, cast their sorrow to the heavens. Lazar felt all the anger that he connected with Ana’s ill-treatment rise up and overflow like a poison in his body. And through his howls of pain he felt the old scar on his heart tear and finally rip
open to loose all the bitterness of his life; everything he had kept private and closed up inside the vault of his heart exploded outwards. He saw stars as he hurled his desolation at Lyana, the target of his wrath. And in that desolation he found new words with which to curse her. Ancient words. He threw them at her, spitting them as if they were daggers to wound. He hardly understood the words and yet, deep within his heart, he knew he did comprehend them and that they were not words of injury but of an ancient summoning as he shattered a centuries old-curse.

He was answered, but not by whom he expected.

Lazar!
came Beloch’s voice.
We hear you. See through our eyes.

And suddenly Lazar was looking through Beloch’s eyes, seeing what the giant could witness from his vantage. He saw Percheron burning.

The Samazen died suddenly. One minute the sands had been raging about him, if slightly diminished in their intensity, but now they had quietened to nothing more than soft eddies here and there. No longer was the wind screaming, or his face lashed by the grit. And in that exact moment as the Samazen died, Maliz felt a pulse of power surge through Ashar’s body, so strong that it knocked him off the camel. He laughed from the soft landing that the sand afforded him and the laughter turned into a demonic howl of delight.

Here it was! Lyana had been incarnated. And he understood now. It had been the child. The child that Ana had been carrying was Lyana all along, hiding and biding her time. It all suddenly made sense. Ana had been found, unbelievably surviving a Samazen because she was the mother-to-be of Lyana. He could kick himself for being so dull as to not see this long before the event. He could have killed Ana on so many occasions and yet, like all those she met, he had been seduced by her innocence and delicious charm. She had never been Lyana but she had hidden the Goddess and he could not help but marvel at the complexity of this battle.

And so there was now a baby, no doubt being secreted away somewhere. But he would find it. Everyone believed the child to be an heir and hadn’t Herezah told him that her crone Yozem had done a blood reading and assured her that Ana’s child would be a boy? He staggered to his feet, still laughing. Lyana was going to hide beneath the skin of a male once again. That old trick! He loved it—she’d only tried it once before. Very clever but he would get to that Zar. He would keep changing bodies until he could reach the child. He could feel all the otherworldly power at his fingertips suddenly. He could do what he wanted. He no longer needed the camel to travel. He no longer needed to eat, to drink. He was finally fully the demon Maliz.

He fled in the direction of Percheron, using his magics to transport himself and leaving the camel
to wander the sands. He would lie in wait for the arrival of Spur Lazar, who he was absolutely sure would take custody of the Zar now that he knew the boy was his. It was going to be such a pleasure to deal with Lazar and then he would destroy the boy and any hopes of those who believed the Goddess could ever find her way back into the hearts of the people.

Iridor felt it; it was double-edged. First, a strong painful pulse of power that seemed to throb through him. It wasn’t his power, though, and it didn’t remain with him. He recognised it from a deep-rooted ancient wisdom, a knowledge etched in his soul somewhere that he instinctively knew was Lyana becoming incarnate. Ana’s baby had been born. The second feeling, equally painful, was a deep sense of loss that he didn’t understand but realised must coincide with the sudden diminishing of the Samazen.

Iridor had no way of confirming what had occurred but he suspected this was connected with Ana, whose very existence seemed to be in harmony with the Samazen. He felt a flicker of worry. It was time to leave Arafanz’s fortress. He would wait and see if he could find out what might have happened to his friends—hopefully everyone had remained safe even though they had been incarcerated. As he took his first tentative steps from beneath the rock ledge, he heard a commotion outside and instantly leapt to a
vantage from where he could see what was occurring. To his surprise he saw Arafanz, normally so calm and tidy, looking dishevelled and stirred up, shouting at his men as they ran towards where the camels were stabled. And Arafanz’s clothes looked to be singed. What could have happened? There was no sign of Ana, Lazar, of Boaz or Ganya, and there was certainly no sign of a baby. And yet Iridor could feel it in his very soul that the child had been born. That pulse of power confirmed it. So why were Arafanz and his men now leaping onto camels. Who were they pursuing?

He meant to find out.

Lazar watched, dumbstruck, as his precious Percheron burned. He could hear the screams, he could see his father’s war galley proudly flying the royal pennon, and his gut twisted at the sight.

Show me the palace
, he groaned.
What do you see?

Beloch moved his gaze.
People are out on the balconies
.

Lazar could see.
Surely they’re not watching the enemy, leaving themselves so open?

No, I think they’re watching my brother and me.

Why?

Beloch switched his view back across the Faranel and suddenly, impossibly, Ezram came into Lazar’s sights. Except Ezram was made of flesh, his complexion no longer grey stone but ruddy and real. Lazar could see the individual hairs in his black beard and the dark blue of his eyes.

What…what’s this?
he stammered, convinced he was seeing something that wasn’t there. He shook his head.

This, Spur Lazar, is my brother, Ezram. You made us free with your summoning that revoked the spell of Maliz, may his soul rot in the eternal gloom of Lyana’s depths!

Wait
, Lazar begged.
You are both real?

We always were,
the deep voice boomed.
We were simply trapped by magic. Ah, here comes Crendel,
and Beloch looked skyward.

The winged lion?

Who else? We are all made whole with the summoning
.

I can’t…I can’t
—

Spur Lazar,
Beloch’s voice sounded like a growl.
We have no time for this. Gather your wits. There is a battle unfolding before us. Percherese are dying by the dozens. What do you wish from us?

All right, just give me a moment. I can hardly take this in. How close are the Galinseans?

From what I can tell they have breached the bazaar. The spice markets are burning. They will be up to the palace within a very short while.

Can you see the Protectorate?

Some, yes. They are trying to maintain the advantage on the hills but it won’t work for them much longer. They have wasted a lot of arrows on the bazaar but the Galinseans have too much cover there. They can wait them out, strike at night, if necessary.

It’s Ghassal’s inexperience. But even he is not to blame. They should be firing burning torches onto their galleys. The Galinseans will not want to be stranded in Percheron, not with their king and queen in tow.

We can smash their boats
, he heard Ezram say with glee.

Lazar could hardly believe what he was hearing but it was a good plan.
Do it. But save the royal galley. Destroy the other boats. Then, Ezram, go up to the palace. You can move your legs?

Of course!
came the indignant reply.

Excellent. Protect the palace and all within its courtyards. Presumably the Crown Valide has called as many people behind the walls as possible. Either way, get there after the boats have been dealt with and put out those city fires as best you can.

I’m going
, Ezram said, and Lazar marvelled to see through Beloch’s eyes the twin giant start wading towards the war galleys, mere toys next to his enormous stature.

And while my brother has all the fun?

Come and get me
, Lazar said, his sorrows put aside for the moment, his anger flooding back. In his anger he found calm, a place to hide his grief.
Can you find me?

Easily.

How long?

At a run? Minutes
.

Amazing,
Lazar breathed.
Can Crendel be spared
?

Surely.

I need him to fly over the western section of the Empty. I’ve a strong feeling that Arafanz will be coming to Percheron
.

He is not our enemy.

But he is mine. Tell Crendel this is what I want.

I will tell him
.

Can Shakar come too
?

Soon enough
.

I presume that he is controllable?

Utterly. He is a disciple of Lyana—as we all are
.

Leave word for him to help Ezram. He can torch any of the galleys—or what’s left of them. No timber is to be salvaged, but leave my father’s ship untouched. He should do a fly over the islands and sink, burn, destroy any Galinsean ships they’ve left as spare. And, Beloch…

Yes.

Feel free to frighten any Galinseans before you leave
. He heard the deep rumble of the giant’s laughter.

He’s not dead
, Lazar added and knew this comment needed no preamble.

I know.

Ana is
. He couldn’t imagine how he could bring himself to utter those words. But he was looking at Luc, the future of Percheron and Galinsea, who looked so like Ana. Vengeance would drive him now. Grieving must wait.

I felt it. I also felt Lyana. She has risen
.

I am bringing her with me. Hurry.

They had been on their way down to the palatial Grand Salon when a sound thundered around the bay. Running to a nearby balcony, Bin instinctively taking Herezah’s arm, they raced outside to see what new threat confronted them. It was beyond belief as Herezah watched the two enormous giants who had guarded Percheron’s harbour for centuries slough away the stone that had formed them. Her hand went to her throat.

‘Bin, am I imagining this?’ she whispered over the cracking and roaring.

‘No, Your Majesty,’ he replied, his voice equally shaken. ‘The giants are coming to life.’

‘How can this be?’

Bin simply shook his head in bafflement. Herezah didn’t expect an answer; she just stared, giving herself over to her amazement, unaware that the soldiers on both sides had also stopped their activities and had turned towards the harbour.

‘They’re alive,’ she murmured. ‘Look, they have skin and hair and they are moving. What are they going to do? Are they planning to kill us?’

‘I can’t imagine their purpose, Majesty. I can’t actually believe this is happening. I’m waiting to wake from this strange dream.’

‘They seem to be talking to each other.’

‘Zarab save us!’

‘What now?’

‘The winged lion comes!’

‘This is impossible. Impossible,’ Herezah moaned.

‘Crown Valide, if nothing else, it has stopped the fighting.’

‘Look, Bin! The giant is moving away now.’

‘That one’s Ezram.’

‘How do you know?’

‘The legend says he was the one with wavy hair.’

‘You know your history tales. Oh Zarab! Look!’

And together they watched Ezram pick up a war galley as though it were a toy, crushing it into splinters of wood. Herezah clung to Bin, fear mingling with joy that blended with amazement. Another doomed ship met its fate at the giant’s hands and his twin began to wade forward, approaching the city.

‘Beloch comes,’ Bin warned. ‘We’re next!’

They watched the Galinsean army scatter in a hundred directions as the giant stepped out onto the foreshore. He was huge, far bigger than he looked from a distance, and his voice boomed across the city.

‘People of Percheron,’ he roared. ‘You are safe. We will protect you. Galinseans, beware. Lay down your weapons or you will all die. Crendel, the winged lion, is looking for fresh meat,’ he warned. ‘And his sister, Darso, is prowling the streets. She will kill anyone who is armed. Heed my warning. Cast aside your weapons. The Galinseans are to gather here on the beach. Any of the enemy who does not arrive quietly, unarmed, will be killed swiftly. Every warship but
that flying the royal pennon will be sunk. I suggest you get all of your people off the ships and onto shore quickly. Leave your king on board his galley. He is safe for the time being by order of Prince Lucien of Galinsea, also known as Spur Lazar in Percheron…’

‘Lazar? Lazar controls them!’ Herezah said, excited. ‘Bin, you heard the giant. We’re safe,’ she added, hardly able to hear herself over the giant’s rumbling voice but unable to prevent her relief from spilling over.

‘…will decide your fate upon his return to the city shortly. Crown Valide, do you hear me?’

Herezah felt her throat catch with terror. She didn’t know whether to wave, drawing his attention, or to simply prostrate herself on the balcony.

‘I know you see and hear me, Crown Valide. Spur Lazar will be among you very soon. Ezram will guard the palace. Do not be afraid of him. He will protect all Percherese, will not permit another drop of their blood to be spilled. Now I must go.’

And with that the giant strode away, back around the peninsula to avoid treading on the city. They watched in silence as he finally stepped back onto land in the foothills. A stunned silence blanketed the city for a few moments whilst Percherese and Galinseans did their best to absorb what had just occurred.