Midnight Quest (49 page)

They entered the city proper and started weaving their way through the streets. Jewel, for once, knew where they were and where they were going so well that she almost smiled at the familiarity. She tried not to let the idea of staying in a place she knew well sway her decision.

“This doesn’t look good,” Chizeld observed aloud.

Rialt reined in, stopping right in the middle of the street. “What be that?”

“There, the man in the red uniform,” Chizeld continued. “See? That man was sent to High Priestess of Thornock as an armsman.”

“And he looks upset,” Sarvell observed.

The fact that he looked upset didn’t really surprise her. With the barrier down, likely
no
one was happy at this moment. But she did find it curious that an armsman was away from the priestess he should be guarding and out in the city like this. Unless Tamarra needed to speak with her?

Over all of the street traffic, Jewel couldn’t begin to discern who was where or if anyone was approaching them. She had to rely on the men for any details. “Can one of you stop him and ask what’s wrong?”

“Don’t think we need to,” Sarvell answered slowly. “Is it my imagination, or did he look relieved to see us?”

“Seems that way,” Chizeld agreed, tone bemused. Leather creaked, as if he just stood in his stirrups, and his voice boomed out, “Gourley!”

“Sir!” a lighter male voice called back. “Urgent news! Must speak with Priestess Jomadd!”

“With me?” Jewel repeated, not particularly surprised. “I suppose Tamarra would want to ask some questions, but…”

“We will find out shortly,” Rialt assured her. “The man be making time, he be, getting to us.”

Rialt proved to be exactly right, as it seemed bare seconds passed before Gourley stood near her right side. He sounded a little out of breath as he quickly said, “Priestess Jomadd, urgent request from Priestess Matthison. Please come to Belthain Order immediately.”

A deep sense of foreboding settled into the pit of Jewel’s stomach. She didn’t like the sound of this at all. “I will certainly come, but can you tell me what’s wrong?”

“Yes.” Gourley paused before blurting out in panic, “The Thornock Crystal is missing!”

Chapter Thirty-five

Jewel strode through the main doors of Belthain’s Order at something close to a run. For once she didn’t need Bortonor or any of her armsmen to guide her. She knew this building better than she knew the back of her own head. While it felt wonderful to be back on familiar ground again, she couldn’t begin to enjoy it.

How could the crystal just be
missing
?

These weren’t some trinkets that could be carelessly misplaced. Even when people had
wanted
to get rid of them they’d barely been able to move them far from the original resting place. Only the Ramath, with their stubbornness and ingenuity, had managed any sort of distance. But here in Belthain, the task would be especially impossible. The crystal sat in its own room, stone walls surrounding it on all sides, and the crystal’s shrine sat
inside
Belthain’s Castle complex! It would be a mammoth job to move it and it certainly couldn’t be done in stealth.

Which really left only one possible culprit.

“Jewel!”

Even though she had only met the woman a handful of times, Jewel recognized the voice instantly. She turned instinctively to face the other priestess. “Tamarra.”

Light footsteps came at a quick pace and then slowed all at once. “I’m so glad Gourley was able to find you. You were tasked with putting the crystals back in place, correct?”

Jewel gave a quick confirmation, “Yes.”

“Then maybe you can tell me where
my
crystal has gone off to.”

Jewel shook her head even before Tamarra could complete the sentence. “No, I really have no idea. I can’t even fathom how a mortal would be able to move it out of here to begin with.”

Tamarra quickly picked up on the qualification. “A mortal? You think the gods are responsible for this?”

“I can think of one especially that is anxious to
not
have all of the crystals back in place,” Jewel said grimly. “He’s been hounding my footsteps on every leg of this journey. But I didn’t think Cherchez had the power to interfere in Evard.”

“By ancient decree, that is not possible,” Chizeld confirmed. “No god may interfere in another’s territory.”

“But that means that the only god who could possibly move the crystal would be Elahandra herself,” Tamarra protested. “And I certainly can’t see her doing that, not after she sent Jewel out!”

Neither could she. Jewel frowned slightly, letting the possibilities spin in her mind. “Actually, we’re missing the obvious. There is one other god, the god of Thornock, that could do this.”

“Baurthan?” Tamarra asked incredulously. “But why would he even want to?”

“Now
that
be the question,” Rialt rumbled. “Jewel, a quick word to herself is in order.”

“Not a bad idea,” Jewel admitted. She quickly bent her head and offered a prayer.
Elahandra, the Thornock crystal is missing.

It took a moment before Elahandra responded.
“It’s WHAT?!”

It’s missing,
Jewel repeated neutrally, although her worry about the situation creeped into her voice. After all, if the Thornock crystal was gone, then the barrier was gone too. They wouldn’t even have a prayer of putting the barrier back up without the central crystal to connect to.
And there’s no sign of how it was done. Perhaps Baurthan might know?

“I’ll ask. Wait right there.”
Elahandra’s presence left as quickly as it came.

Jewel lifted her head. “She’s not sure what happened, but she’s asking her brother.”

“It
is
his territory, after all,” Sarvell muttered. “He should know.”

“Not necessarily.” Tamarra sounded disgruntled. “The downside of having the God of Order as your deity is that he dislikes the chaos that mortals create. I think he ignores us as much as possible.”

That had actually been one of the reasons why Jewel felt so thankful that Elahandra had chosen her as a priestess. At least that way she had
one
god that paid some attention to her.

Even though she stood outside in the hallway, Jewel instantly felt it when Elahandra appeared in the empty crystal room. In fact, the feel of
two
deities emanated from that room.

Tamarra let out a low growl. “
Now
what’s going on?” Without waiting for any answer, she spun about in a swish of skirts and darted for the crystal room.

Jewel darted right after her, tracking by ear as her armsmen and Bortonor followed on her heels. Still, she only crossed a few dozen feet before skidding to a halt again, just inside the doorway, to avoid running over Tamarra. The other priestess had frozen almost as soon as she entered the room, blocking the doorway.

“Tamarra? What—” she cut the question off as two voices, raised at an angry level, started firing back and forth.

“I don’t
care
if they complained,” Elahandra bit off in an angry hiss, “
put it back
.”

“Really, sister, this creation of yours has caused nothing but trouble,” another voice responded laconically. He had the tone of a bored aristocrat who was only conversing for the sake of politeness. “I’m doing you a favor.”

“No, you’re just making my job harder,” Elahandra corrected through gritted teeth. “I’m in charge of keeping all of Evard safe, remember? It’s a little hard to do that when one of the key pieces of my barrier is
in your hands.
Now put it back!”

“I don’t know why you insist on keeping this silly barrier of yours. Surely there are more elegant methods. In fact, I think it’s time to revise the whole concept.”

“What are you—?! Oh don’t you
dare
drag the whole family here to discuss this!”

“I told you, I think it’s time to revisit this idea and think of a better solution.”

“What better solution!” Elahandra demanded. “None of
you
wanted to—”

“What be this about?” a new female voice asked. This time, Jewel recognized the new arrival. Juven had arrived. Strange, but perhaps because she had been in the presence of this goddess before, Jewel felt more from her. Elahandra’s presence always had an overtone of light and…a nurturing feeling of affection. Juven seemed quite the opposite—her presence had the overtones of strength and challenge, like a huntress on the trail of fresh game.

“Our idiot brother has lost his mind, that’s what!” Elahandra snapped.

Before Juven could respond, another god appeared in the room, one with a mellow tenor voice. “Goodness, Ela, I haven’t seen you this mad in three centuries. Baurt, what did you do?”

Jewel turned and touched Rialt’s arm to catch his attention. “Who is that?” she whispered.

It was Chizeld that answered in a quiet tone, “Gostrum, the god of Death.”

“Be he?” Rialt asked in mild surprise. “He looks more like a school teacher.”

“The depictions in children’s storybooks far from accurate,” Chizeld assured him dryly. For Jewel’s sake, he leaned near her ear and said, “Gostrum is of average height, long hair in pony tail, with a narrow build.”

She gave him a quick smile of appreciation. “And Baurthan?”

“Think of a young lord with money to burn, and you got him,” Rialt answered in a slightly disgruntled tone.

While they conversed, two other gods appeared and joined in on the argument. Sarvell did the honors this time and leaned against her shoulder to whisper, “That’s Thaazan and Morchel. Do you remember what they look like?”

“Like small boys who are constantly up to mischief,” she whispered back, but she wasn’t really paying attention to what she said. Good heavens, they really
were
calling on everyone if even Bryn’s gods were here. In fact, only the Moping God and the God of Learning were missing.

A new presence filled the room, and while each god seemed to have their own ambiance, this one felt different than any other. If Jewel had to put a label to it, she would have said
sullen
.

“What is going on here? Why am I always called when I have other things to do?” a male voice petulantly whined.

That absolutely has to be Corbeird. Apparently his title of Moping God is well deserved.
Jewel charitably avoided saying that aloud. But if Corbeird had arrived, then all they were missing—

“My, I think this is the first time in one hundred and sixty-four years since we were all together,” a mild baritone observed.

Broeske, the God of Learning and Veris’s deity, had arrived. Baring Cherchez, who couldn’t be physically in Evard anyway, the whole pantheon of gods was in this single room. The spiritual presence alone nearly overwhelmed her. Even though she had been in the presence and spoken to several of them personally, none of them paid any attention to her, for which she said heartfelt thanks. They were clearly in an antagonistic mood right now and who wanted to deal with an upset god?

“Baurthan, for the love of the all-Father!” Juven exclaimed. “You did
what?
Have you taken complete leave of your senses?”

“I got tired of all of the complaints!” Baurthan retorted. “And really, this wasn’t a good idea to begin with.”

“Not a good idea?” Elahandra parroted in outrage. “It was better than any of
you
could come up with! And it would have worked just fine if people had left it alone!”

“That would be Juven’s fault,” Thaazan (or was it Morchel?) observed easily.

“Now wait a minute, how is that my fault?” Juven demanded.

“Well, it was
your
clan that moved the Ramath crystal, wasn’t it?”

“Like I told those eijits to do such a thing! And your own people were quick enough to do the same, were they no?”

“
We
didn’t tell them to do it.”

Elahandra let out a growl of aggravation, similar to that of a frustrated hunting cat. “And none of you stopped them either!”

In a way, the situation was remarkable. No one had ever witnessed or been in the presence of all the gods at a single moment in time. This moment would surely be something that Chizeld would love to record for history. So Jewel felt it rather a shame that he couldn’t report something splendid. Instead, they were bickering like children.

They started to talk over each other, different siblings accusing each other and others denying, and the noise level rose steadily as they had to shout to be heard over each other. As sensitive as Jewel’s hearing was, she could only pick out bits and pieces. As abruptly as it rose, it fell again (probably because at least some of the gods were down to glaring at each other or ignoring each other). Although that certainly wasn’t true of all of them: at least one god still had plenty to complain about.

“You’re still holding onto
that
?” Gostrum spluttered in amazement. “Corbeird, that happened over eight hundred years ago!”

“Yes, and I’m still upset about it. No one properly apologized after all.” The tone made it clear that he had his bottom lip stuck out in an open pout.

“No one’s going to listen to old grievances.” Broeske, at least, sounded calm. Or maybe he was just indifferent. Jewel found it hard to tell just by the sound of his voice alone. “We should—”

“Oh, then let’s talk about new ones, eh?” Juven cut in with a clanking sound, as if a hand had just hit against armor. “Let us talk about a certain goddess who steals people that are no hers!”

Elahandra quickly defended herself. “I didn’t steal him! He
volunteered.
”

“Well of course he did,” Morchel (Thaazan?) agreed with a carefree laugh. “After all, it was obvious that if those two ever met they’d fall in love.”

Jewel and Rialt choked at the same time. Jewel could feel her face heating up with a vivid blush. Oh. So the gods knew that things like that could happen? So part of the reason why Rialt had been chosen to go to her rescue was because Elahandra was playing matchmaker?