Two (The Godslayer Cycle Book 2) Page 16

  Viola had silently accepted the response, but walked away without saying anything further. She had just as quietly mounted her own horse and waited in silence for the other two to lead the way. Whatever thoughts were moving through her mind, the former barmaid was not yet ready to speak them. And this frightened Avery more than anything, even more than the thought of once again facing the Godslayer.

  As the trio had ridden, the strange storm had risen up around them. More than once, Avery had thought that perhaps they should stop riding and seek shelter, especially since the horses were spooking and difficult to control with all the sudden sounds and crashes. He continued to let the beasts run for no other reason than simply not knowing which choice to make. His indecisiveness cost him dearly, however.

  Once the plumes of smoke began tracing through the sky, once fire began raining from the sky, it was impossible to control the horses at all. If they were not already on an easily traveled road surrounded by woods to either side, he was certain the horses would have bolted off in any other direction than the one they were going. If they had been moving through any other terrain than the Wildelands, there would have been no hope for controlling the direction of their mounts. As it was, the narrow road acted to corral the horses, forcing them to run a preset path.

  Still, the mad raging pace the horses set for themselves was dangerous enough. Though the road they had found seemed solid enough, it was not exactly paved nor maintained. It was a frequently used wilderness trail only, likely used by vagabonds and merchants. But as it fell outside of any claimed territory, it was only as well repaired as immediate circumstances required.

  But all good fortune had fled in this regard once one of the fiery blasts struck the earth nearby. Avery had been witness to lightning strikes in his day that had not been as cacophonous as the sound this strike made. The strike had surely been several miles' distant, yet Avery still felt the impact in the air around him. A brief thought of how much worse the strike would have been without trees around to act as breakers crossed his mind before he found himself inexplicably flying through the air and crashing into one of those selfsame trees some feet away.

  Pride and dignity abandoned, Avery had managed to pull himself up from the fall. Yet once he had been able to see clearly, it had been Viola's eyes he had encountered first. Mounted still upon her horse, the harshness of her gaze was inescapable. If there had been faith remaining before of his godhood, it was quickly dissolving.

  As Viola began to turn her horse away, the frustration of his loss took hold of him and he had lashed out with his fist against the very tree that had ended his flight through the air. The air filled with an audible crack as his fist struck the wood, echoing loudly against the already present thunderous peals in the distance. As Avery stepped back, he could see the tree being weighed down in slow motion, as the tilted base coupled with the weight of its branches brought the tall pine creaking towards the ground. With each inch, it began to pick up speed until within a few seconds, the entirety of the tree's weight brought it crashing back into the forest beyond, bouncing and snapping against boughs and thicket as it fell.

  It took several minutes for the sounds of falling debris to finally settle, and only then did Avery realize that he had been watching it the entire time. Quickly, he glanced over at Viola, who had stopped to watch the spectacle, as well. But by the time Avery had looked up at his lover, her eyes were now upon him. Certainly, the lack of faith was gone, but in its place the absolute devotion had not returned. Now there was only confusion. Yet for Avery, it was better than doubt.

  Avery's mount was lost. Once it had unseated its rider, the beast had fled off into the distance. Hamil and Viola had lost precious time in trying to give chase by stopping to see if Avery had needed assistance. Remarkably, though the fall had momentarily stunned him, it had done no serious harm. And his felling of the pine had demonstrated a likely cause – he still possessed some degree of his godly strength, and it had spared him from what could have been far more serious harm.

  Viola had remained silent as Avery had mounted her horse, placing himself in front of her. There really had been no other option, since Viola was the lighter of the two who remained upon their steeds, and it simply made more practical sense for Avery's weight to be added to the least burdened mount. But there was an emotional chasm between Avery and Viola, and the man feared trying to breach it. Avery was feeling his claim upon divinity slip away, and Viola represented the manifestation of his feelings in the real world.

  After that, they had ridden more carefully, keeping a tight reign upon the horses to avoid any further reckless flights.

  Again and again they could hear the sounds of heavenly bodies striking the earth, though none as close as the one that unseated Avery. It took well over an hour, but eventually the fiery plumes lessened and the crashing thunder of their flight across the skies began to settle. The harsh winds continued for some time, but eventually by midday, even those had abated. Avery could smell smoke and dust on the air as they continued, but whatever the threat from the skies had been, it had passed.

  That had been three days past. The trio had continued to ride during the day, resting their animals and themselves at night. Hamil proved to be a surprising resource in being able to procure sustenance from the land around them, finding fruit and even managing to trap small animals for nourishment. But for all the comfort the scribe could provide, none of it replaced the absence of love Avery felt from Viola.

  Each night after the storm, Viola had lain beside him, but she had only lain. There was no frolicking, no reaching out to cuddle or arouse. The only difference between the body which lay stiffly beside the would-be-God and a corpse was the heat that he could feel radiate off of it. And yet his own fear of rejection prevented him from reaching across the distance between them to even try to initiate any contact himself. And so the lovers had slept together, yet neither would bridge the gap between them to in any way affirm their status with each other.

  It was on the afternoon of the fourth day following the loss of Avery's hand that they came across a great gash in the ground, severing the road like it had cut through a vein of ore. The smoking line extended some twenty feet across, and aimed off towards the north and south of the road at a diagonal angle. Only the direction of the trees forced down along the gouged path indicated in which direction the swath had been cut. Smoke and sulfurous smells emanated from the rent in the earth, making it difficult to breathe without coughing.

  Clearly, this had been created by the firestorm that the trio had heard. Though it certainly was not the source of the discord which had sent Avery's horse into such a panic, it was obviously similar. After all, more than one fiery object had fallen to earth that day.

  “If I were to speculate, however,” said Hamil, once he was sure that Avery was no longer intent upon his disbelief, “I would surmise – if this truly is the working of a God – that someone might be quite upset that we are moving towards the second sword. Perhaps this was a means of trying to stop you, my Lord?”

  Avery considered this. It would certainly boost his believability if he could prove that the other Gods were intent upon putting a halt to his exploits. Yet to be honest with himself, he just could not imagine finding a believable way to extrapolate a connection between the fire shower and his own claims of divinity, much less this swath cut into the ground days away from where they had been when the storm had struck. Surely, divine wrath against one man would have more precision?

  “No,” Avery said at last. “I do not believe this had anything to do with us. At least, not directly. Perhaps there was a battle between members of the Old Gods, or perhaps there was some forsaken right that one or another felt the need to impress their masses about. But I see no reason to suspect that any of the other Gods have any knowledge of where we go at present.

  “That is one thing I learned from having One by my side, after all. Gods simply don't pay attention to other Gods unless they are confronted directly.
And since we have not done so – yet – our actions are simply beneath their notice.” Avery gripped Viola's arm where it rested around his waist, attempting to offer some degree of comfort. Viola's lack of response left him oblivious to whether she accepted the gesture or not.

  “I do believe that its mystery requires some investigation,” offered Hamil. “After all, if this is the result of some divine tantrum, there might be something worth gleaning from the aftermath.”

  Avery could think of no way to disagree. Inwardly, he yearned to continue on their way – the coast was still weeks away, after all, and stopping to investigate curiosities along the way would surely give the Godslayer more time to gain a lead upon them. And if their enemy reached Levitz before they did, there would be no hope of retrieving a new sword – especially when he had no sword of his own to defend against a renewed attack.

  On the other hand, a vague memory tickled the back of his mind, one of the swords falling to Na'Ril in a similar shower of fire and brimstone. Perhaps it was just his imagination, or some remnant of a dream left in his subconscious by One. But regardless where it came from, it gave him the idea that perhaps something equally powerful – or even more powerful – may have fallen to earth this time. And to ignore that possibility...

  “I agree,” Avery pronounced. “It is best to find out what the New Order Gods are up to, in case whatever this is about should somehow cross our path. Best to be prepared.”

  Hamil barely waited for Avery to finish before leaping from his own horse and scurrying over to assist Avery from his own.

  “Viola first,” Avery said, shifting to permit the lady to accept Hamil's assistance. At first, Viola seemed reluctant to dismount, but after a moment's hesitation leaned forward to accept Hamil's uplifted arms. With Hamil's aid, Viola's dismount was more a controlled fall, yet the young man seemed well suited for the task.

  Avery did not wait for Hamil to finish his task before dismounting himself. Let Hamil shower Viola with attention. Perhaps being waited on will renew her affection for me.

  Unfortunately, Hamil did not appear to be of like mind to Avery's whim. As soon as he was certain that his services would no longer be needed in aiding his companions to dismount, the scribe raced off to the edge of the scarred terrain, eager to pierce the mystery that apparently eluded his own God.

  Avery held back, watching Viola's reaction. She casually made her way to the edge of the chasm, but she did not display the same exuberance as the scribe. If anything, she seemed not the least impressed by the phenomenon.

  “Is there something the matter?” Avery heard himself asking.

  Viola turned towards him, indecision visible in her features. “I'm not sure of what to say,” she offered after a moment.

  “Say what you will,” Avery sighed. “I doubt I have heard worse in my life.” At least that much was true, considering the shame, hate and prejudice leveled against him solely for the label of being a heretic. Of course, Viola knew none of this, and Avery was not prepared to yet reveal it.

  Viola barely hesitated before blurting out the question that had plagued her for days. “Why would you keep your wound from me?”

  Avery sighed, letting his words come from his heart for the first time in years. “I felt less a God for having lost a battle with the Godslayer, and losing my hand was difficult enough without being seen as less than I was to you.”

  “Why would you, of all people, be afraid of what I thought?”

  Avery took a deep, steadying breath. How much could he say without saying too much? “I feared you would lose faith in me, that you would no longer see me as your God. And of all I have gained in following, you were the one I fear losing the most.”

  Viola looked puzzled. “But you are a God. I have seen your miracles. You healed your own hand after it was cut away. Your strength is greater than any I have ever known, as is your lust and staying power. I saw you defy another God's will when you struck down his priest. So much I have seen, and you think the loss of your hand to the mythical Godslayer would make me lose faith that you were a God?”

  Avery flinched in spite of himself. Her doubt had never been about whether he was a God. Then what...?

  “I could feel you pulling away, Vi,” Avery admitted. “I could feel your faith in me lessen.”

  “Maybe you don't understand because you are a young God. I don't know about these things. I was never raised to any real faith. But for me, faith is as much about my God believing in me as my believing in my God. When you hid your loss, I feared I was not important enough to you to entrust. Hamil knew. He was worthy. Yet I, who shared your bed, was not.

  “I had doubts, my Lord Avery.” Tears welled up in Viola's eyes. “Doubts in whether I was worthy of you, and whether your lack of faith in me was a sign that I would be cast aside. That I had proven unworthy of remaining with you...”

  Avery did not remember walking over to Viola, but he found himself wrapping her in his arms all the same. “Never, Vi. Never!”

  Held once again in Avery's arms, all the fear and anxiety that must have been stored up within Viola's small frame burst free and she began to sob in earnest.

  She had never lost faith in me. She was reacting to my lack of faith in her.

  The thought renewed Avery somehow, rekindled his spark for greatness, gave him the strength to set aside his own doubts. He now knew that his own insecurities could translate to others, and he vowed never to let his own fears dominate him again. Though the urge to withdraw back into his reclusive shell might always linger, he committed to reminding himself of all he could lose if he ever succumbed. And more importantly, who he would lose.

  “Are you coming, My Lord?” came Hamil's voice. The scribe had wandered some distance along the path of the gutted bed of devastation. The tree line of the surviving woods masked him from Avery's sight.

  Viola pushed back and away from Avery's chest, wiping her tears away. “I'm sorry, My Lord,” she managed. “I didn't mean to lose control like that.”

  Avery smiled in return. “There's never a need to be sorry. Any excuse to hold you is welcome.”

  Viola blushed, and Avery felt his own cheeks warm in return. He could not escape the feelings he had for this girl. But did Gods declare love for mortals? Could he ever safely confess his feelings without losing the illusion that he was divine?

  “Come on,” said Viola, plastering on a brave smile and pulling upon Avery's hand. “We had better catch up to Hamil before he explores the whole thing.”

  Avery smiled foolishly in return. He felt weak and powerful and filled with more happiness than he had ever known in his life. The woman of his dreams still wished to be his, and she was pulling him along behind her because she wanted him to be with her. She could have pulled him towards a flaming pit, and he would just as witlessly have followed her lead, if only it meant he would perish by her side.

  The cleft into the furrowed ground crumbled away as the pair made their way down the slope and into the base of the scarred earth. Avery slipped at one point and his severed wrist struck the ground as he instinctively reached to catch himself. Worse, the ground still held residual heat that he could feel. Like a fire pit, the ground was blackened with ash, which suggested to Avery the possibility of live embers.

  “Be careful,” he called to Viola who had already reached the bottom of the slide. “The ground is not yet cooled from the fire that burned here.”

  Viola paused and looked about her at the various trails of smoke leaching from the earth in all directions. “You're probably right. I'll wait for you.”

  How hot must this pit have burned to still be smoking now? wondered Avery.

  Viola did not have long to wait, and Avery was soon by her side, taking her right hand into his left so he could guide her along. “Hamil should not be too far ahead yet.”

  “But which way did he go?”

  “His voice came from there,” Avery nodded in the southerly direction of the scored path. “It looks like that is the di
rection whatever it was fell, and so he has likely gone to find what it was.”

  Gripping her hand for comfort, Avery rushed along the scarred landscape, leading Viola in his wake. “Hamil,” he called. “How far ahead are you?”

  Almost immediately, he cursed himself. A God would know that, wouldn't he?

  “Here, My Lord,” called Hamil, standing up in the distance. The man had been examining something in the ground.

  It only took a few minutes for the pair to catch up to the scribe. “Find anything?” prompted Viola.

  Hamil grinned. “Most remarkable,” he spewed. “It's like the world's fastest forest fire burned here and went out just as quickly. All the ground around us is nothing more than burned timber and dead animals.”

  Avery raised an eyebrow. “You can tell that, just by looking at the ground? That there is burned wood and such here? It looks like it's all just dirt to me, like something scooped up the ground and threw it aside.”

  “Very little was actually thrown out, My Lord. Otherwise when we climbed down, we would have been climbing over a pretty good sized mound of dirt. No, whatever hit here was flashed so hot, so fast, that it burned this hole into the ground. It's amazing it wasn't all turned to glass.”

  “Glass?” asked Viola. “Why would it have turned into glass?”

  Avery fielded the question. “Glass is made from sand, Vi. So if what Hamil says is true, all the sand and dirt in the ground should have melted into glass.” Avery looked around himself at the apparent dust littering the ground, which he now recognized was indeed ash. “But he's right. There doesn't seem to be any.”

  “So what caused this?” Viola asked.

  “Not sure yet,” answered Hamil. “But I think we'll find the answer there.” The scribe pointed ahead, where a large earth embankment brought the gouge in the earth to an end. “There is where what little earth was pushed out is, and that's where whatever crashed here stopped.”