The Curse in the Gift (The Last Whisper of the Gods Book 2) (22 page)

“It is likely that our adversaries seek not only dominion over this continent but over realms beyond. Without a divine buffer against whatever may be happening in The Otherverse, we stand on the edge of a cliff that could crumble beneath us at any moment. Imagine all that raw power at the beck of a human being. He could become a god but without wisdom and forbearance.”

The speech was remarkable for its frankness; Azarak couldn’t recall Ferguson ever being so straightforward. Thinking back to the reading and research he had done before Sorial was unveiled as Ferguson’s choice for Vantok’s wizard, Azarak recalled mentions of The Otherverse. He had never fully understood their meaning but the implications of a man entering The Otherverse were couched in the direst of language. From within The Otherverse, the primal energies that made magic possible could be manipulated in their most basic form without the need for elemental synergy.

“For the moment, Your Majesty, I can do no more than act the penitent and advise. My power has been stripped away. I tell you this: the surest way to lose your throne is to proclaim a ‘truth’ that the majority of your subjects don’t want to hear. You’re already embroiled in a war with an unruly nobility that opposes your policies of taxation, austerity, and conscription. Declaring the gods to be dead would provide them with ammunition and allies in their quest to usurp the Crown. Maintaining the status quo and showcasing Sorial as a gift from the gods will bolster your support and quell your enemies - at least those within the city. You should be preparing for a war against outside forces, not those within Vantok. Be a king: use all the tools at your disposal and stop being so damn sentimental about the ramifications of making a mistake.”

* * *

“Where is Sorial and when will he return to Vantok?” asked Justin.

Ariel shrugged, the gesture barely noticeable because of the oversized robes she favored. She didn’t have an answer. She had just spent time in the North at the ruins of the city Ibitsal, but he wasn’t there - or at least he had no longer been there when she arrived. Indications were that she had missed him by perhaps a day or two at most. But she at least had discovered his reason for visiting the icy wasteland. If he served no other purpose, Sorial had removed one item from Ariel’s list of things to do before she died.

“He was at Ibitsal.”

Justin, who had been distractedly sharpening a knife, put the blade down and gave her his full attention. “Oh? The portal?”

“Perhaps indirectly. He was there to kill his father. My father.”

“Maraman? What was Maraman doing there?  Last I heard, he was down here, in The Forbidden Lands.”

“That was years ago. Apparently, he brought a large force with him to Ibitsal to set a trap for Sorial, expecting him to use that portal. Kill him, capture him, recruit him - who knows? I guess the assassins weren’t working too well. My brother refused to play the victim’s role. Maraman didn’t survive a pebble shot through his skull into his brain.”

“Sounds like your brother has learned a little finesse. All the more reason to find him and eliminate him.”

“Now that he’s in the open - if he stays there - he should be easy enough to track.”

“When you find him, I don’t want you going after him alone. He’s had enough time to become dangerous and air is not a good match for earth.”

Ariel bristled at the apparent lack of faith. “You think I couldn’t beat him?”

“If you were to misstep, he could seize the opening. He has more raw power than you; he’s younger and fresher. If I was placing a bet, it would be on you, but that doesn’t mean things couldn’t go the other way. And your history with him doesn’t inspire confidence. When it comes to striking a death blow, are you sure you could do it?”

“Yes. I protected him when he wasn’t a threat. Now that’s changed and I know what needs to be done.”

“Better not to take risks. Locate him and we’ll formulate a plan to remove him together. He might get lucky against one wizard. Two should be able to overwhelm him with relative ease. There’s no cause for either of us to face him one-on-one unless absolutely necessary. Now, what of your other initiative?”

“Everything is in readiness. All we need is for the players to take their positions. The contingent from Obis is crawling southward, hampered by bad weather. They’ll be at least a week late.” She paused for a moment before adding, “You know, I could kill Rangarak by myself. It would be easier and cleaner that way.” The potential for something to go wrong was much greater with their current plan.

Justin shook his head. “The point isn’t to put a new king on the throne of Obis; one’s as good or bad as the next. They’re all warmongers. Our objective is to create chaos in Vantok and suspicion between Rangarak’s forces and Azarak’s army. An unquestioned death wouldn’t accomplish that. Besides, I need to know whether my new trick is as effective as I believe it to be. If it is, it may provide an effective means of eliminating your brother.”

Ariel was dubious. “If you say so. But if we get into a position to capture Sorial’s blood, it would probably be easier to spill all of it rather than steal a little.”

“The art of strategy isn’t developing the main plan; it’s devising contingencies. Sometimes, Ariel, you’re too impulsive and your thinking is too linear.”

“What of your ‘secret weapon,’ the djinn? Have you made contact yet?”

“Last night I was granted an audience with their leader, the efreet. I must admit, he’s more powerful than I supposed he would be. It appears that, to win his aid and that of his underlings, I must engage him in single combat to prove my worth. Only twice before have the djinn served human masters and both occasions were long ago. They’d be powerful allies in any war but I must weigh the value of using them against the danger of obtaining their support. The results of a battle with the efreet are by no means certain. He has all the elements at his command. I only have fire.”

“And if you should die?”

“Then, my dear, all this...” He spread his arms wide to indicate the ever-growing army massing beyond the walls of his command tent. “...shall be yours, to do with as you see fit.” Death, however, wasn’t in Justin’s plans. It was something to be avoided at all costs because, although Ariel might be able to conquer and unite the six major human cities, she was largely ignorant of the final phase of Justin’s plan, the thing for which all the battles and their associated carnage was but a prologue. If not him, there was none other. So he
had
to survive. But time was growing short. He could sense the telltale signs that his body was beginning to weaken. For those who used magic, it was inevitable, and Justin had lived longer than most. Twenty-five years as a wizard. History recorded few with tenures as long. The timetable for war had to be advanced, the preparations expedited. Another year might bring him five thousand more men, but he didn’t have that long, and the djinn might be worth their equal. For better or worse, that would likely mean risking everything to achieve an alliance with the secretive elemental creatures.

“Do what you can to funnel as many of Maraman’s people here as are interested in joining our army.” More men, especially battle-hardened ones, were always welcome. Justin had recently absorbed the remnants of the force Sorial had scattered from Havenham. “Then find Sorial. Don’t just look.
Find
. You have dominion over the air. He breathes it. Figure out how to use that basic fact to track him.”

The stiffening of Ariel’s posture indicated she wasn’t happy with the rebuke contained in Justin’s orders, but she didn’t challenge him. She might pout and chafe a bit - that was her way - but, in the end, she would do what was required. When it came to the djinn, so would he.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: A WATERY EMBRACE

“Does it have a name?” asked Alicia, gesturing vaguely into the darkness. There, hidden by the night, rested the rock wyrm, who was serving the duty of sentry as well as providing transportation.

“No. It wouldn’t understand the purpose. It ain’t like a dog where you call it something and it answers to it.”

“How many are there? One of my tutors told me they were extinct like dragons and trolls.”

“There ain’t many, but if I concentrate, I can sense others, burrowing in the deep rocky places, down beneath the roots of the highest mountains. Ain’t many creatures of the earth left, unless you count worms and other tiny things. Most of the legendary ones like trolls have either died or gone into hiding in places where men can’t hunt them.”

Alicia was curled into a ball by his side, her arm draped across his chest. They had become accustomed to sleeping close like this under a pile of furs to ward off the cold. Tonight, the coverings were unnecessary, at least for purposes of warmth. The fire they had lighted to cook their dinner was extinguished and they had discarded the furs in favor of a lighter blanket. Alicia, who disliked the stench of imperfectly cured hides, was pleased. There would still be a chill during the darkest hours of night but, within the outer limits of Vantok’s heat bubble, it was noticeably milder. This was the sixth day of their southbound trek. Tomorrow, they would be home. Sorial had thought the same thing a little more than a week ago, but this time he knew it to be true. Alicia was by his side. All was well, at least for the moment.

“It’s strange, isn’t it? Touching another mind, especially one so small and focused.” Alicia had experienced it for the first time this evening when they stopped by a small pond. She had lured several fish to the edge and encouraged them to swim into Sorial’s waiting hands. Cooked and cleaned, they had become dinner.

“The first few times, yes. But you get used to it. It’s like anything else - the novelty wears off with practice.”

“Like sex?”

Sorial laughed. The way she had teased him during their journey, it was as if she was the experienced one and he was the virgin, rather than the other way around. By unspoken agreement, they had decided to wait to consummate the relationship until they arrived at their destination. Sex under a pile of furs next to a fire had its appeal, but they were both tired and sore after a long day riding atop the rock wyrm. As sure-footed and fast-moving as the creature was, it wasn’t designed for the comfort of its riders. Sorial yearned for the relative smoothness of in-ground travel but that was an impossibility with Alicia as a passenger. They had to stay above the earth. And that meant enduring a constant barrage of bumps and jolts. Every evening, his buttocks, lower back, and thighs felt as if they had been bludgeoned. He knew it was the same for Alicia, but she never complained.

“Like sex,” said Sorial. It would have been easy enough to make it happen now. He knew she wouldn’t protest if he turned her on her back and climbed atop her. But sleep was creeping up on him fast and, though he could envision the scene in his mind, his aching body was unwilling to enact it.

The next morning dawned clear. Sorial sat up to watch the sun slide above the eastern horizon of the flat, grassy plains that surrounded Vantok for miles to the north and west. The city was still too distant to be seen, even as a speck on the horizon, but the rock wyrm’s distance-eating gait would quickly change that. Care had to be taken, however. They had stayed clear of inhabited regions on the journey south, crossing The Broken Crags where there was no pass and staying away from settlements large and small. As they drew closer to Vantok, the potential for an encounter increased. Eventually, they would have to dismiss the creature and cover the final miles on foot.

Sorial glanced at the rock wyrm, lying close by. Unmoving, it might easily be mistaken for a large mound of stones. But Sorial could feel its life force and energy. It yearned to return to the underground but would remain beneath the sky for as long as Sorial needed it. He tried to convey to it that the journey was nearly complete, but it didn’t understand. For the rock wyrm, past and future had no meaning. There was only
now
.

Alicia, still damp from her morning bath, was sitting cross-legged near the remains of the previous night’s cooking fire, sipping from a water skin and watching him. She had discovered a way to pull water from the air and use it to wash herself without experiencing a chill. She did this every morning before he awakened. She was warmer when wet than when dry. She used a similar trick to keep their water skins full. She could draw water up through the ground as well but didn’t like the “unclean” taste. Sorial preferred it that way. Drinking a little dirt never hurt anyone.

“You need a bath,” said Alicia. “How long has it been since your last one?” Sorial recalled that she had been obsessed with hygiene long before entering the portal. Becoming The Lady of Water had merely intensified her need for cleanliness.

“My affinity is for dirt, dust, and mud. Baths ain’t my thing.”

“That’s an excuse. You always liked being dirty. It must be because you spent so much of your life in that filthy stable. The only job dirtier than that is cleaning chamber pots and privy pits.”

Sorial didn’t bother to mention that her observation wasn’t correct. He had cleaned more than one chamber pot and privy pit in his day and there were times, especially during the heat of the summer, when a stable was dirtier. The animals did all the things humans did and weren’t as neat about it.

Regarding the large man’s robe that had been her sole garment since leaving Ibitsal, Alicia made a tsk-tsk sound. “We can’t present ourselves at the palace gates looking like this. We’ll be turned away as vagabonds.”

“I’m sure your father will be more than happy to help. Last week, he used some old clothing in his wardrobe to transform me from a beggar into a lord. You can slip into one of your old dresses.”

“If they fit. I’ve lost weight. So have you, stableboy.”

Sorial knew it to be true, but most of what he had lost was shed before his most recent visit to Vantok. His appearance wouldn’t startle Carannan, but Alicia’s might. They had agreed to visit her father first upon returning to the city. As before, he would provide for Sorial’s admission to the palace. They had also agreed no one would be told of Alicia’s transformation. That was something to keep secret, at least for now. Of the living, only Rexall, Aiden, Sorial, and Alicia knew what had happened at the portal. Sorial’s status as The Lord of Earth would become public knowledge but Alicia would be known only as The Wizard’s Bride.

“Have you ever seen the ocean?” asked Sorial.

“Not that I can remember.”

“Really? It’s less than a day away from Vantok.”

“I led a sheltered childhood. I was lucky enough to be allowed to spend time by the river or visit a stable at a disreputable inn. I once asked my father if I could visit the seaside and he said the ocean looked like a bigger version of the river during a storm and the water was so bitter you couldn’t drink it. Plus, the fisheries where the fresh catches were brought in by wagon smelled so bad they made me sick.”

“One of the first things we need to do once we get settled is take you to the sea. There’s only so much you can accomplish on dry land. We need to see what you can do surrounded by water. I spent more than a half-season virtually entombed.”

“Won’t the river be enough? It’s convenient.”

“Maybe for some purposes. But you’ve got to experience the ocean. You’ve got to immerse yourself in it - feel its power and make that power yours. So far, everything you’ve done has been tiny. Can’t you feel the
need
to do something more, something bigger?”

Alicia considered for a moment then nodded. “A kind of itchiness. Something pent-up. I feel it. It’s been there since the portal. When I do something, even something little, it gets me excited but doesn’t provide relief.”

“I think of it as ‘magical frustration.’ It’s a lot like sexual frustration, actually. And releasing the power isn’t much different from having an orgasm. But magic drains you. You’ll feel this the first time you really let go. You pay the first price at the portal then keep paying for the rest of your life, however long that lasts.”

During their journey, Sorial had shared with her what he had surrendered to the portal. She hadn’t reciprocated and he didn’t press her. She would tell him her price when she was ready. It was nothing he could outwardly identify. She had all her senses and was physically whole. He didn’t worry about it. It couldn’t be undone and, as far as he could see, it wasn’t impairing her.

“Visits to the palace and temple libraries are necessary,” said Alicia. “I’m sure there are plenty of books and scrolls dating back to the time before the gods stripped away magic. It will make for dull reading but should help us better understand our powers.”

“I’ll leave that to you.”

“Oh... Sorry, I forgot. You can’t read.”

“Not much call for reading and writing when you work in a stable. Rexall knew his letters and tried to teach me when we were kids but I could never get the hang of it. So when it comes to spending time in libraries, that’s something you can do. I’ll take care of chasing away the mice, though.”

She sniffed as if affronted. “My trip from Vantok to Ibitsal cured me of my fear of mice. I’ve seen far nastier things.”

“Oh. Then you won’t be bothered that one just slipped under your robe.”

Alicia leapt to her feet with a shriek. Her expression of panic turned to a scowl when she realized there was nothing there.

“Just checking,” said Sorial.

* * *

It was hot. Not brutally hot like during Summer but warmer than it had ever been in the heart of Winter. Vantok lay ahead, more than the mere smudge on the horizon it had been when they dismissed the rock wyrm. The sun was halfway down on its rapid afternoon descent from zenith to horizon. It would be twilight before they entered the city.

Alicia was excited. Sorial could tell by her impatience and the quickness of her steps. She wasn’t running but he had to stride purposefully to match her pace. It occurred to him that, when she had left Vantok on her quest to protect him from the Ibitsal portal, she may not have expected to return. Her plan might have been for the two of them to go into exile and live out their lives in blissful obscurity. It certainly hadn’t been for them to fill two of four wizard’s slots.

“It’s getting worse. All the time, it’s getting worse.” Alicia was referring to the weather. “We have to do something. It’s pleasant enough now but come Summer, no one will be able to live around here.”

That was the crux of Sorial’s problem. He agreed with her that something had to be done. But, short of killing Ariel and The Lord of Fire, he didn’t know what. Alicia could squeeze rain out of the parched clouds but how much good would that really do? A few drops lapped up by a scorched surface that needed a deluge. She could cause water to seep up through the ground, but that wouldn’t address the core problem. Was there a way for him to transfer the coolness of the underground to the air? That would provide some relief, but how could it be done? Could Earth alone solve the problem or would he need Water’s help?

Two hours later, they walked past the two guards at the ungated southern entrance to the city, the one where they were least likely to be stopped and questioned. Here, the wide north-south Vantok road narrowed to become the city’s main thoroughfare. Anyone using it to traverse the entirety of Vantok would pass through the peasants’ quarter, by the palace gates, and near to the temple before emerging into the rich farmland to the north. Neither of the armed men at the entry checkpoint spared them more than a cursory glance. They were just two more peasants hurrying home at sundown. The light blue sky was already deepening to indigo. It was a Winter dusk with Summer climate - as odd a weather juxtaposition as Sorial had ever encountered. In the distance, above all the one-story houses that formed this poorer section of the city, Sorial could see the palace. Beyond that, blocked from his view at this location, was the temple. Sorial wondered where Ferguson was at this moment. When he had departed a week ago, Vantok was crackling with political tension. Had the situation improved or worsened during his absence?

“Anywhere in particular you want to go? It’s a little late to make our grand entrance at the palace now.” Azarak might not agree, but Sorial welcomed one more night before being immersed in the city’s political cauldron. How they spent their remaining hours of freedom was Alicia’s choice. For Sorial, the city was more about the past than the present. Everyone was gone. Kara and Lamanar were dead, their crumbling cottage home only to the vermin that had crept in from the fields. Darrin and Brendig no longer patrolled the streets. Annie’s ashes had long since been scattered to the winds. Rexall was somewhere in the North and, even if he had been in Vantok, Sorial wouldn’t have sought him out. There were always Warburm and some of his friends in Carannan’s militia, but he didn’t trust the former and felt little connection to the latter.

“No king tonight. No prelate tonight. Not even my father tonight. I just want to absorb being back in Vantok with you. Like it used to be.”