Grudgebearer (65 page)

And Skinner's force at South Watch?

I was going to send Skinner to Porthost, to check Kevari Pass, General. I'm concerned that we haven't found the main tunnel from the Zaur territory. What if it's too deep for the Geomancers to locate it?

Then we'll find the passage when we invade the central complex.
Bloodmane touched Wylant's helm fondly. He remembered it well, forged in the same fires on the same mighty Life Forge upon which he and his fellow warsuits had been created. But it was not alive, because she was not, could never be, a true Aern. A pity.

Have you spoken more to kholster Rae'en about the human's knowledge of the tunnel?
Eyes of Vengeance asked abruptly.
Vander instructs me to make the inquiry.

I haven't asked again. She's very upset right now, with the loss of . . .

We need more information if Jolsit's Elementalists are to meet us at the correct location, Bloodmane. You know that.

Bloodmane did know it.
You stand in one spot for six hundred years and the world changes very little, Eyes. And yet, when you step out of that spot, the world changes so quickly you can scarcely follow.

I know.

“We will be one again,” Bloodmane said aloud, “reunited with our makers.”

“May it come to pass,” Ambush, the warsuit running next to him, called out.

“Live long and see it so, my friend,” Bloodmane replied. “Live long and see it so.”

CHAPTER 62

CHANGING OF THE GODS

“May I?” Grivek gestured at a space on the pier next to Rae'en.

“You have a few days of life left,” Rae'en said without looking at him. “Sit wherever you want.”

She looked up at the stars instead, wondering what it would be like to walk among them. Wondering if her father could do that now, wherever he was. Cold air blew in off the water, and Rae'en realized she only knew it was cold because of the way Grivek shivered. Armored. She shook her head. Armored without a new Life Forge.

“I'm sorry about your father.”

Rae'en did not kill him, but only because she felt honor-bound to start the Conjunction over again if she did so. Kholster had said it would be done, so she would do it. Oath redeemed in death or not.

“What do you want, stump ears?”

“If all oaths are redeemed in death,” Grivek began, “I was wondering.”

“Do not tell me you're hunting up that trail.” Rae'en looked at him askance.

Grivek looked over his shoulder at the others. Wylant stood to one side near the cluster of blue, red, and green tents the Oathbreakers had pitched. Apparently the king couldn't be expected to sleep on the ground like an Aern or a Vael. Four of Wylant's Lance had arrived in the afternoon to regroup. Wylant saw the king's imploring gaze and held up her hands rebuffing any plea.

The Vael knelt at the base of Xalistan's statue, eyes closed, praying or meditating.

“We all know Kholster was looking for a way out of this war,” Grivek started.

“You will all die,” Rae'en said, looking back at the water. “All the Eldrennai die.”

“All things die, kholster Rae'en,” Grivek offered. “Perhaps if we could come to some—”

“You ALL die!” Rae'en leapt to her feet, looking down at the wizened Oathbreaker.

We will still invade the Eldrennai?
Bloodmane asked.
In death all oaths are redeemed, so now . . .

Whose scars are on my back, Makerslayer?
Rae'en thought scathingly.
You killed my father so that you could defeat the Ghaiattri and fight the Zaur. Therefore, we will fight them. But he died because of the Oathbreakers. So. They. All. Will. Die.

I understand
, Bloodmane responded curtly.

Tyree looked over from where he was conversing with Zhan but did not interfere other than to give a wave when Rae'en's gaze fell on him.

Wylant flew to the pier, with one magic-enhanced leap.

“Daughter of Kholster,” King Grivek began, but Wylant held him back.

It's almost midnight
, Bloodmane interrupted.

What?

Kholster said we should watch the Changing of the Gods.

Father said that? When?

Before.

“Everybody shut up, I have to watch something.” Rae'en turned.
How long until midnight?

Now.

*

When do they do it?
M'jynn crouched on the lip of the central fountain eyeing Aldo's statue. In the dark, golden light flowed from the pale eyes of the god of knowledge's likeness warring in the night with candles from the gathered humans, each praying to their chosen deity.

Kazan held up a cup of warm beef broth one of the Harvester's worshippers had handed him as they moved among the faithful providing warm soup to the devout. He blew carefully on his, mimicking the actions of the humans. Apparently blowing on the soup was part of the ritual.

Can we drink that?
Arbokk asked, staring down at his own, standing at his side of the fountain.

I already drank mine
, Joose thought back.
Tastes like hot wet meat and salt. I'd ask for another cup, but I already heard one of the females tell a little male it was rude to ask for seconds.

You can have mine
, Kazan chuckled. Did a little broth matter? How could Joose think about such things when they'd just been told the First intended to keep them as her Overwatches. Kazan was walking around the fountain to hand his cup to Joose when it started.

Shidarva moved first, slowly shifting positions, first to a defiant pose, arms on her hip, legs akimbo and then her mouth dropped open in . . . shock? Kazan darted back to his position. They'd all taken up position at what would be the cardinal points of the fountain so they could render a complete view of the Changing of the Gods here, since kholster Rae'en had missed it her last time through.

*

Kholster hovered in the realm between worlds, watching and remembering.

“I have never interfered,” Torgrimm had told him. “But I have been convicted by the idea that things must change. I will force you to do nothing. I am deity and it is not my place. You, however, are not of the Artificer's will. If you were to take a portion of my aspect then you could do what I cannot.”

“Then give it to me and let it be done with,” Kholster had mouthed.

“You must fight me for it,” Torgrimm had answered, “and I cannot give you any quarter, or I will violate my own oaths. I am not a god of war, but I am still a god. You will have to truly fight me.”

“You're the only god I like, Torgrimm.” Kholster had frowned. “Are you sure this is what you want? There is only one way I can think of that—”

“If you will, then do it.”

The black vanished from Kholster's eyes, banished by the jade, amber pupils blazing.

Kholster roared, and Torgrimm, for the first time in his existence, knew terror.

*

“Why are they all doing that?” Rae'en asked Wylant as the statues of the gods turned, jaws agape, eyes focused on the pier.

“I don't know.” Wylant, once more attired in her customary embroidered Aiannai doublet drew Vax, her weapon, in the shape of a longsword. “Something's wrong.”

Tyree burst from his tent, holding his head. “Can't you hear that?” He dropped to his knees, eyes closed, face red, teeth clenched.

The wind picked up, swirling leaves around the central obelisk, the words on it flowing free and glowing white. Lightning cracked in new clouds overhead, and ball lightning arced back and forth in blues and purples, illuminating the night in pyrotechnic fury.

Unslinging Testament, Rae'en walked cautiously toward the end of the pier only to see a giant obsidian hand thrust up out of the water and grip the end of the pier.

A second hand joined the first, got purchase, and, as if kicking against something out of sight, a new statue hurled itself out of the depths, lurching over Rae'en, landing atop on the central obelisk, then leaping like an irkanth onto the statue of the Harvester.

“Dad?”

*

Screams echoed through the Garden of Divinity as the humans fled. Spilled soup and tin cups littered the ground. Only the bravest pilgrims and four Overwatches kept their positions as a new statue, one that had burst from the ground, ripped the helm from the head of the statue of Torgrimm and tore chunks out of the statue with its teeth.

I don't think Torgrimm was quite expecting that
, Joose sent.

*

Without hesitation, Kholster had lunged to his feet, swinging at the death god, his fist crashing in under the helmet, breaking Torgrimm's nose and sending gouts of divine blood pouring down his mock-Aernese face. Two more solid shots kept the god off-balance while Kholster stripped the warpick from him with raw, skinless fingers, blood blossoming from his many wounds as he used the warpick to pry the helmet off of the dazed deity.

“I didn't expect it to be such a short—”

Kholster had cut off the sentence by tearing a chunk out of the death god's cheek.

Torgrimm had never felt pain before, not physical pain, and he reacted by trying to push Kholster away from him. Using the warpick like an oyster knife, Kholster stripped the chest plate from Torgrimm and cast it aside as he continued to bite and tear and chew.

*

White marble blood spouted from the throat of the Harvester's statue as it went limp and collapsed. Kholster's statue worked at the Harvester's bone warsuit, stripping it to expose the flesh.

“Kholster! Khol-ster!” the four young Overwatches found themselves chanting. Joose had been the one to start it, but Kazan didn't know that it mattered.
We have a god now
was the thought rushing through his brain.
One all our own.
He felt the Arvash'ae rising and pushed it back, not wanting to miss a moment.

Many of Torgrimm's followers sank to their knees wailing as others launched themselves at the two statues as if they could somehow force them apart.

*

Rae'en smiled from ear to ear, looking for matching expressions of joy on the faces of the others present, but she did not find them. Even the Bone Finders, though not horrified like Grivek and the Vael, were reserved, thoughtful. Only Wylant seemed to be having something even close to the emotions Rae'en was experiencing, but her smile was more of a smirk.

Rae'en growled at the statue of Minapsis as she stepped free of her base, walking with unhurried steps toward her husband's statue.

*

Kholster, in the throes of the Arvash'ae, took little notice of the horned goddess, sparing her only enough attention to track her movements should she attack. He tore at Torgrimm's belly, looking up as he chewed to keep track of his surroundings. The meat was sustenance, nothing more.

Minapsis raised her arms, and two mist-like shapes rocketed from her hands. They coalesced into human figures on either side of Kholster, their hands on his shoulders.

“That's enough, Grudger,” Marcus Conwrath whispered.

“You Hunderts always were mean as frost,” Japesh swore.

Kholster bit at Conwrath, but his jaws closed on nothing.

“No flesh here, friend,” Conwrath laughed. “You killed me years ago.”

“Ha!” Japesh slapped his mist-like hands together. “Got drunk. Fell off balcony. Oi win!”

Kholster snapped at Japesh, too, with the same result.

“See?” Japesh laughed. “Mean as frost.”

“Is frost mean?” Kholster asked slowly, coming back to himself, pupils shrinking, black returning to his eyes.

“If it weren't mean, it wouldn't bite, would it?”

“You would laugh less were I not protecting you, Japesh, son of Wayne.” Minapsis crossed her arms. “Are you yourself again, Kholster?”

He nodded, looking down at the blood, at Torgrimm's gory form.

“Then get away from my idiotic husband before I show you what the Horned Queen can do.” With a gesture, Torgrimm became mist as well, flowing into her arms where he re-formed, armorless, clothed in simple farmer's garb.

“That,” Minapsis nodded at the scattered scraps of broken warsuit, “is yours, Reaper. I might suggest you use Jun's forge to repair it, if I cared a jot. Which I don't. I must attend the Sower. Try not to eat anyone else while I'm gone.”

CHAPTER 63

WHERE LIES
THE HARVESTER

In the halls of the gods, Dienox roared. Waves of sound echoed through the chamber, reverberating off of the ancient architecture. The other gods paid him little attention. Most of them had spent eons dealing with the war god's tantrums. Kilke impressed himself by successfully holding back his laughter. In his true form, Dienox had once been quite frightening, but in the form of an Eldrennai clad in gleaming crystal armor, the god of war was far less impressive.