Book 5, Chapter 54: The Weight Of It All
Sleipnir was not happy about my destination, nor my plans. Yet he bore me toward them, regardless. I asked that he not tell Father, nor anyone, before he left me. We hugged, then he left for Valhalla, or wherever the old man was wandering.
The plains around me were vast, but not empty. My beloved corvids circled the area of my choosing, and foxes in the tall grasses. They would wait and watch, witnesses, and not intervene, as per my desire. Enough of them had been killed.
Across the field sat the wizards’ conclave, looking so much like a castle. With high walls and ramparts and fat, square towers, I wondered who, other than me, they needed such protection from.
I could feel the mages preparing. They knew I would come, though not the when of it. Here I was, here I came.
Thinking of Brin, I brushed my hand over my face, putting a crimson mask across my eyes, deepening to black as the make-up moved down my face. Warpaint for the upcoming battle. It was so very tempting to give myself horns and large batwings.
I was loathe to destroy its centuries of knowledge, but the castle contained the collected information of all wizardesses and wizards to train more of them, to steal from and capture my kind. There could be no more mages to terrorize the populace in this world, halt its history. It had to go. I heated up its stone to half the boiling point of water and waited for them to exit.
Thirty or so mages dropped from the sky, Wizard Tye among them, smashing their staves into the ground, creating their circles of death. Ready for this, I pulled an endless amount of power into myself. Herbs and flowers sprouted from the ground beneath me, spreading out and running into their lifeless dust, pushing it back and overloading them with power. Seven of the mages collapsed to their knees, their skin brightening from within as if holding back light.
Keeping them at bay, I turned my attention back to their conclave, racing the molecules, heating up the stone until it remembered being a liquid, and rejoiced in its youth, burning all wood and paper within, slowly flowing across the land.
Other mages dropped into a wide circle around us, five hundred and forty-one wizards and wizardesses. So many! Maybe too many.
I readied myself for their attack, their grey, life-sapping circles.
Instead of waves and waves of death, a pulsating electric-blue dome rose around and overtop the mages, from a point behind them to distant point above us.
I suddenly became no more than the little girl standing here. The mages attempting to syphon my energies dropped to the ground. Nine pushed themselves up, a few recovering enough to stand, most remained sitting, shaking their heads.
They’d cut our magic off.
Looking around, nowhere to hide. I cursed myself for not bringing a weapon. Despite all that I’d gained, I still did not grasp the breadth of their abilities or strategies. I was a fool. The first group of mages were but a distraction – crap!
No more than a man, the grand magister ran at me, swinging his staff.
I ducked and rolled into his feet and he fell. Rolling on top of him, I smashed one hand into his groin, the other into his nose, then backwards off him, stepping on his left hand as I did so. He yelled out, twisting over and away from me. I might not have magic or memories, but I’d fought with the Vikings and in Valhalla for millennia – what threat could he pose me? I kicked him in the ribs, hard. Then again, for good measure.
“You know, Tye,” I stomped on his left arm at the shoulder, dislocating it and he yelled out, “the more I get to know you, the less I like.”
Footsteps from behind and a grunt, so I dropped to the ground, again rolling backwards, as a staff swung where my torso had been. One of those who survived their death spell. He repositioned himself, holding his thick staff overhead, then advanced. Two more were running our way from the edge of the circle, more from the other side and six of the first group had recovered and were heading this way. Too many!
Tye remained in the fetal position, cradling his hand against his chest, holding his left side with his right. I moved to keep the prone wizard between us, the new attacker and me. The man looked at the staff I was aiming for, moving around the wizard to cut me off, and I took that moment to rush him. He brought his staff down, I sidestepped to his left, planted my leg under his and clotheslined his neck.
He hit the ground and I quickly kicked him in the temple, picked up his weapon, smashed the handle of it against his head, then stood and turned to face the oncoming attackers.
Tye stood up, backing up as best he could, saying nothing. The first two advanced around him, weapons at the ready. He turned, rushing toward the barrier.
They were no match for me, but still I felt guilty. I had to protect myself, though. One lunged, staff pointed at my neck, I moved slightly out of the way, sliding my shaft along his and into his throat. As he fell grabbing his neck, I picked up his staff, holding one in each hand. My trapped brother would be gleeful, but this was like beating children at football.
The next man lasted no longer. Six more men and three women were advancing.
I charged after the grand magister. The armed mages chased after me. I was catching up, but he made it through first.
Upon crossing it, he immediately turned, raised his hand and a bunch of stones lifted off the ground then sped through the air toward me.
No time, I put the wooden shafts together in front of me, stones crashed against them, my gut, my thighs. I tried to stay standing. If I could just get to the barrier!
He raised another volley, but flinched, pausing a moment before releasing.
I dropped to the ground and a staff moved through the air where my head had been. Quickly I smashed his ankle, he cried out, falling. Two other mages jumped at me, aiming for my neck. I stuck my right staff into the groin of one, he doubled over, and barely rolled out of the way of the other’s downward swing when a barrage of stones slammed into all of us, one hitting my head and my world went briefly white.
Consciousness returned and I was staring at blades of green grass, belly down. They were pulling at my hands. I pulled back, drawing them toward me, but something smashed into the back of my head for my efforts.
My head hurt, vision was blurry and, cut off from my power, I couldn’t heal myself. The mages producing the nullification dome couldn’t keep up their efforts forever and if I could outlast them, I’d get my powers back. At least, I hoped. And that it would be soon.
Arms and legs outstretched, spread-eagled, they slapped manacles around my wrists and ankles, stakes holding them to the ground. He cut open my dress from neck to bottom. It hit me then, what they’d planned. Thought about pleading – ‘I’ll be a good god!’ – but gave up on that. No point in saying anything. My body began to shake with the memories.
The knife bit into my back with his first stroke. I winced, tongue pressing against the roof of my mouth. Unlike Bechalle, his strokes were long, sure, and quick. Not stopping on the curves or corners, he pulled the blade through my flesh over and over.
When he came near my neck, I tried smashing his hand or face, but having no leverage, did little but move his hand.
“Hold her.”
They pushed my face down.
I wriggled, trying to throw the rune off.
“I said keep her still.”
More hands, knees, pushing me into the ground, pressing me against it. It was hard to draw breath.
No Morry to save me this time. No window to toss Tye from. Maybe these mages would leave the kingdom alone after my death. I hoped. Sorry, big man. I couldn’t make it. Sorry, Brin, Tread. Hopefully, the nobles will accept Tread and Morry as exalted.
It struck me foolish, then, to have given up the memories of a god. Loki wouldn’t have lost like this, been violated like this. Yet I liked this life, despite everything. Had good times. Much alcohol, a few parties. I was, had become without realizing it, a young woman with friends.
I stopped fighting. He could take it! Take the divinity for himself. Leave me with my memories while I could still breathe. At least, unlike Bechalle, Tye was not collecting my blood, nor ranting incoherently. I clenched my teeth against the pain, trying not to call out.
My back a crisscross, a mess of lines, the pattern becoming a rune. The fifth dimensional polygon. Prime number, 137 strokes when complete.
Something thread-like shimmered in front of my eyes. Face pressed down, my eyeballs strained looking at it. A single strand of a web. It waved back and forth with the wind, then touched my nose.
My link to the divine was suddenly restored. Anansi! I smiled with relief and promised him many thank-yous later.
I drew on that power. Slowly, lest they notice. Blades of green grass before my eyes. Yes, yes, a trickster goddess. Tye had no need to talk to me and I had no need to talk to him. He’d find out soon enough.
Running up, the footsteps of a mage, “Grand Magister, we weaken. How much longer?”
“Longer! You must hold or I cannot finish and she kills us all.”
“Can you spare any of these holding her to shore us up?”
“No. She’ll move and throw off the pattern.”
Footsteps rushing off.
He cut more lines. I did not heal myself. Slicing along my shoulders. I tensed up, flinching, but held still by the weight of so many against my body.
The ground slightly vibrated with a mage collapsing. Then another. A pause, then another mage dropped to the ground. How many hours had passed? Their energy flagged.
I shook and his knife went wide.
“Hold her still! We can’t afford mistakes like this!”
Blood welled up from the lines on my back, outlining them. They formed a pattern, a sigil, a means to an end. If he completed it, he’d gain the divinity for himself. I wondered why the others were helping him. An odd thing to trust another with so much power. Too much for a single person.
But a wind suddenly came upon us, and the lines blurred, shifted even. Perhaps one extra. 138. Not at all a prime number.
“I said hold her!”
“Grand Magister, the circle is breaking! She will regain her power soon!”
“One more stroke.” The blade slid across my back, touching lines to lines and completing what Bechalle could not. “There!” I felt him stand up. The knife fell to the ground.
The force upon me lightened, the mages near me aging rapidly, skin becoming taught, muscles atrophying. One by one, those around the circle fell, the electric blue of the dome rippling like wind across a flag, dissipating as it did so.
Drawing on Anansi’s power one last time, I healed my back, the manacles fell off my limbs, and stood to find Tye staring at his hands.
Startled, his eyes met mine, “How?” He looked around.
I approached him, “They’ve fallen.”
“You . . . what did you do?”
“Trickster goddess. I moved the glyph over and you put a line where you didn’t want one. You drew the wrong sigil. Well, the right sigil for me, I think.”
Lightning and fire lit up around his arms, circling, a little flare rose up across them, “And yet I have your power!”
I touched my hand to his shoulder, looked into his eyes and said, sincerely, “Good luck.”
A red cylinder of light fell around him, energy racing up into the heavens, streaming from his face and body. He reached for me, but it stretched him up like a rubber band. Into the sky he went. Off to another world, a new life, new body.
The symbol he cut, the divinity he stole. Did it create a new universe just for him or did he go to an existing one? Not a thing I could answer, but off he went. To a world without magic, where it couldn’t function. I hoped it had elementary schools and he was thrust into the body of a five-year-old. Fresh out of kindergarten, straight into grade one. Good luck indeed!
I fell on my butt more than sat down, exhausted. The grass tickled. Whoops, this dress was now a hospital gown, open at the back. Pushed it under me, collapsing onto the grass.
Hundreds of expired mages surrounding me. All of them. Pretty gross. As I lay there, I sincerely hoped they didn’t animate, starting the zombie apocalypse on this world.
Anansi! He saved me. I guess, returning the favor. Well, yeah. I got him out of that prison. Fair is fair, but still, I felt like I owed him. A lot.
Lay there watching fluffy, white clouds move across the blue sky, soaking in the sunlight. I knew where Anansi would go, to Ketzle, for he was a friend to all slaves. He would comfort them, help them. That would be, if I could get back to my kingdom and friends, where I would take my army. End the practice of slavery, make Ketzle part of my kingdom.
Then Laemacia. What this world taught me, what history from my world, too, was that many kingdoms, many separate states, needed to be unified. Once there, we could develop. If otherwise, the wars would continue.
I sighed. A war to end all wars. This one, this one I would make sure was the last.
I still had problems, though. Until I destroy that temple and free my brother, and the others within, people here could draw from them, become mages.
Sorry, brother, I want to keep that temple for a while. It’ll help me keep my friends around. Yeah, very selfish of me. With the mages’ university destroyed, their knowledge gone, I’d have to be very careful. Find those who could use the power before they harmed their families. Teach them. But not to be mages. Healers. We were going to make more healers in this world.
I was alone in the middle of nowhere. On the empty plains. No civilization for days in any direction. And just a little girl. Tye had stolen the divinity, and I was without my powers for as long as he lived. He’d left me with a life, though. One I could work with.
Somehow I survived! Crazy.
Soon I would see my friends, Brin and Tread. The big man. My cheeks became wet then, thinking of this. Friends! And this life. Not so bad, being a teenage princess here. Oh, the technology I would introduce.
But for now it was just me and a bunch of corpses. Some corvids and foxes who no longer recognized me. And with my dress ruined, I’d have to take the clothing off a wizardess corpse. Kind of yuck. Brundle already sent men this way, but it would take them a while.
I closed my eyes and dreamt of coffee. We’d send out expeditions. I was damn well going to find me some coffee somewhere on this planet.
***
Author's Note:
And that is the end of Book 5.
I apologize, I need to take a break uploading chapters now. Book 6 is finished and on my Patreon in a 3rd draft, and I'm doing one more edit before posting live to RR. That is going to take a bit as I'm suddenly busy and away from home, but I'll do so as quickly as possible.
If you'd like to chat about the story, you are most welcome to join our growing and slightly crazy community on discord: https://discord.gg/kyhM5YFSUc
Thank you for reading this far! I'll post more when I can. Cayce is tapping her feet, staring at me to hurry up. No wine for her until I do!
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