The Realms of the Gods
Read The Realms of the Gods Online
Authors: Tamora Pierce
CONTENTS
Chapter 9: The Battle of Legann
To Claire Smith and Margaret Turner,
who teach me that heroism includes facing Sorrows each and
every day with courage, humor,
and practicality
PROLOGUE
A magical barrier had separated the realms of the gods from the mortal realms for over four hundred years. While it stood, mortals were safe from the legendary creatures known as immortals, so named because, unless they were slain, they lived forever. Giants, Stormwings, griffins, basilisks, tauroses, Coldfangs, ogres, centaurs, winged horses, unicorns: In time, all became the stuff of children's tales, or the concern of scholars who explored the records of times long gone.
In the eighth year of the reign of Jonathan and Thayet of Tortall, mages in Carthak found the long-lost spells that were the keys to gates into the Divine Realms. Ozorne, the Carthaki emperor, turned those spells to his own use. His agents opened gates into other kingdoms, freeing immortals to weaken Carthak's enemies for later conquest. Even those immortals who were peaceful, or
indifferent to human affairs, created panic and confusion wherever they went. Gate after gate was opened. No thought was spared concerning the long-term effects on the barrier.
In the autumn of the thirteenth year of Their Majesties' rule, Ozorne's great plan came to a halt. In the middle of peace talks with Tortallâwhose agents had revealed his involvement in the current troubles of his neighborsâEmperor Ozorne made a final attempt to regain his advantage. He ignored omens that proclaimed the gods were most displeased with his stewardship of his kingdom. For his pains, he was turned into a Stormwing and barred from human rule. His nephew took the throne; the gate spells were destroyed. By that time, however, the barrier had been stretched in a thousand places to cover the holes made by the magical gates. Its power flickered like a guttering candle.
At the dawn of the Winter Solstice, the shortest day of the year, all those with any magicâGift, immortal, and wildâwoke suddenly, laboring to hear something that was not a sound. In Tortall, Numair SalmalÃn, one of the world's great mages, sat up in bed, pouring sweat. Though he could not see them, he
knew
what all the other mages in the palace and city were doing. The king, awake and at work in his study, knocked his chair over when he jumped to his feet. Harailt of Aili, dean of the royal university, flailed in bed and fell out with a thud. Gareth the Elder of Naxen pressed a hand to his laboring heart; Kuri Taylor swayed on her feet, half fainting. Even those with wild magic registered on Numair's senses. Onua of the Queen's Riders jumped out of her dawn bath, shrieking a K'miri war cry. Stefan Groomsman dropped out of his loft, landing safely on bales of hay while the horses who loved him whickered in concern.
And Daine, Numair's teenage friend and ally of the
last three years, sat up in her bed-nest of cats, dragon, marmosets, martens, and dogs, eyes wide in the gloom, soft lips parted. The young dragon Skysong trilled without stopping, her voice spreading in a series of rippling pools, soon to reach and fill the palace itself.
“Kit, hush,” Numair heard Daine say, though the girl didn't try to enforce the order. “Numair, what is it?”
He didn't question her knowing that he could hear what she'd said, in spite of hundreds of yards and a number of buildings between them, any more than she questioned it. In that moment, as the sun climbed over the horizon, any wall seemed vague and ghostly. “It's the barrier,” he replied softly, but she heard every word. “The barrier between the realms. It'sâgone. Evaporated.”
He could feel her blink, as if those long, dark lashes of hers touched his cheek. Suddenly he learned something that he'd never considered before. For a brief moment, that fresh knowledge erased even his sense of magical cataclysm.
“The immortalsâthey'll be on us like a ton of bricks,” she said, her voice matter-of-fact. “I'd best get up.”
ONE
