Two (The Godslayer Cycle Book 2) Page 31

  “Not so fast,” said Galentine, beating his brother to the rebuke. “You talk about the Godslayer. Who is this Godslayer? We have heard talk of him from you before, but we all know this could not be the Godslayer of legend. So who precisely are you talking about?”

  The God of Mischief stopped in his tracks and all elements of humor passed from him. “If I'm right, he's the one that killed Imery. And for once, I know where he is going to be very, very soon. I just need to manipulate Avery to drop the barrier--”

  “I thought you said the Pantheon raised this barrier?” inserted Galentine.

  “I don't have time for this!” barked Ankor. “We don't have time for this. You gave me a job – find out who killed Imery. I found the mortal I believe to be responsible, but instead of doing anything, you want to stand here and ask me to explain!”

  “That is hardly an unreasonable--” started Galentine.

  “It is the most unreasonable thing in a millenia of unreasonable things!” Ankor threw his arms up once more, then turned and started walking away.

  “Look, come when I get the wall dropped, or don't. But I don't want to hear you ever blame me for not doing something when I gave you our sister's killer on the back of a platinum-plated altar!”

  Before either Greater Power could respond, Ankor had vanished into the aether.

  * * *

  Nathaniel's passage through town had been a solitary one up until this point. Clearly, none could see him while he had the sword's power activated, but no one had come to investigate the disturbance in the wall his passage had created, either. If he were to have guessed, he would have said that the town was actually deserted.

  That proved to be less than true. As the newest visitor to Levitz moved closer to the port area of town, he began to see people in the distance moving in much the same direction as he traveled. Likely, Avery had caused some kind of disturbance and they were going to see what it was about. That would be about right, he imagined. Typical behavior – if there was a monstrous wave crashing into the town, people like this would likely go watch it bear down on their own heads. And it seemed Avery could always be counted on for becoming the center of everyone else's attention.

  Well, maybe not just everyone else's – because the little man had proven to possess a remarkable talent for being at the center of where the Avatar needed to be, as well.

  Nathaniel could not say what specifically drew these people in his direction, but he knew well why he moved that way. He could feel the tug of the other sword upon his mind. He knew where it was, even without the odd resonance he felt shivering along the blade of One.

  It was not long before the unseen man found himself weaving through more and more people, eventually halting at the edge of a slow moving crowd of some hundred citizens pressed close around a building only a few blocks from the docks. Nathaniel's heightened senses could smell the salt and hear the lap of water upon the wooden support beams. The creak of ships tied to the docks added their own unique pieces of evidence to the port's proximity, too.

  Faced with the mob before him, Nathaniel could devise no way immediately to proceed without sacrificing his advantage. If he moved forward, he could not help but be detected. Unseen or not, these people would surely know when a man pressed them out of the way.

  That dilemma solved itself, however. As Nathaniel stood at the fringes of the crowd, the people before him began to step to the either side, creating a very plain path for him to walk.

  Chills ran up the man's back. Was the magic no longer working? How long had they been able to see him?

  Yet then the man realized that the people were not looking at him – they were looking ahead, moving to either side at the beckoning of another man who walked casually in his direction – Avery. And in the self-proclaimed God's hand he held a twin to the blade the Avatar held in his own. At his heel, Nathaniel could see an even smaller man following the would-be-God.

  Nathaniel gripped his sword, uncertain exactly how to proceed. Was it mere fate that Avery was coming in his direction, or something more?

  It seemed his questions were destined for easy answers.

  “I know you are there,” said Avery, coming to a stop perhaps fifty feet away from where Nathaniel stood. “I can feel One as plainly as I can feel the hilt of its fellow in the palm of my own hand.”

  The invisible man remained silent, holding his breath. Was he bluffing? But how could he do that with such accuracy.

  “Your name is Nathaniel Goodsmith. I have mistakenly labeled you the Godslayer. And perhaps you are, but I know now you are not the creature of lore I thought you to be.”

  When the unseen man remained silent, the smaller man continued. “We don't have to do this. We don't have to fight like last time. In fact, we need not to fight. Two was really specific about that.”

  Reluctantly, Nathaniel released the sword's magic, letting himself be seen. Gasps rose from the crowd around him, but none moved against him. “You're right. We don't need to fight. But you can't keep that sword, either. If you give it to me, we don't have to fight.”

  Avery looked to the sword in his hand. “I think you misunderstand the situation. You are not the one in control here, and you do need to understand that.”

  The day suddenly grew darker as a great shadow fell across what light had been able to filter through the opening in the top of the barrier.

  Nathaniel look up and gasped. The open sky above was quickly being blocked by the walls of the barrier, the water of the structure flowing together to form a great dome above the town. Soon, only dim rivulets of light moved across the ground, much like what could be seen of sunlight had a swimmer opened his eyes under water.

  “You see,” said Avery calmly, “you are trapped. I command the source of the barrier, and I decide whether it all comes crashing down. In short, whether anyone here lives or dies is entirely up to me to decide.”

  As Nathaniel's hand gripped the hilt of his sword tighter, Avery smirked. “What would you do? Attack me? Make me lose control of the water while we fight? Would you really sacrifice all these people just for the chance to maybe get your hands on another of the Old Gods' swords?”

  Murmurs began to move through the crowd. Nathaniel could see the unease in the eyes of old and young alike. People began to back away from the one they had apparently seen as a savior only moments before. Avery asked whether Nathaniel were willing to sacrifice these people – but for Nathaniel, the question was reversed. Was Avery?

  Nathaniel pressed his lips tightly together, gritting his teeth as he struggled for a solution. “What do you want then?”

  Avery cocked his head to the side. “Isn't it obvious? I want my sword back. My sword, One.”

  “Just like that?” asked Nathaniel, wracking his mind for an alternative. “You want me to give you both swords?”

  “Something like that,” responded the little man.

  “You know you're not a God, Avery. You do know that more swords, more magic, is not going to bring you any closer to that false belief?”

  Avery shrugged in response. “Say what you will. I don't need your faith, after all. I know you work for the Old Gods. And I know all about their nine enchanted swords. There are seven more out there that are still sleeping, each one with a mark like this.” Avery held up the hilt of his sword, where two white pits inside a square design were plainly visible.

  “This marks this sword as Two. And we both know that the single mark on the hilt of the sword you carry marks it as One. The other seven swords will be the same, so there's no trouble identifying them, is there?”

  Nathaniel looked at the faces of the crowd. “Why are you talking about the swords? What does any of that have to do with right now? Here, with what is going on between us?”

  “See my little friend here?” Avery reached behind and pulled the other man forward. “This is my scribe. It's his job to set down for posterity all that I do and say. And I want him to be able to honestly record that I gave you every op
portunity to walk away from here without the loss of one single additional soul. I want it clear that I proved to you that I know all about your mission, and what the swords can do.”

  Avery swung his sword point first into the earth at his feet. “They kill Gods, Nathaniel. They can free the world of all these crazy beings who run our lives. These swords can reset the board, give people the chance to cast out the petty beings who are running things now in favor of ones better suited for the job.”

  “Like yourself?” asked Nathaniel pointedly.

  “Yes, like myself. And like you, as well, though you're not ready to admit that yet. But you will. The Nine want you with us rather than against us. But you aren't ready yet.”

  “Ready for what? To start preaching false scripture to people who don't know any better?”

  Avery ignored the prod. “All that will happen today is that the sword you carry will be relinquished. Call it your first offer of good faith towards our common goals into the future, if you will. One act of contrition, one small acquiescence to me as proof that you have not yet been so corrupted by your masters, that there is still hope for your soul.

  “Do this, make the sacrifice, and no one needs to die. But rest assured, if you are too far gone, if you would willingly put the lives of these innocents at jeopardy to challenge me for this sword--” Avery indicated the blade set into the ground, “--then all the lives lost this day will be on your head, not mine.”

  “I will not be the one that endangered them,” argued Nathaniel. “I'm not the one holding all that water over their heads.”

  “Oh, but you are responsible. For if you surrender One, I will release the water away from the town and Levitz will be free. I give you my word. But if you insist on trying to take Two by force, then I will let all of that water crash down upon us. Only myself and Hamil here will be sheltered from the disaster. And your name will go down in history as the fool who slaughtered this entire village.”

  The thought of breaking Avery's control over the sword vanished when Nathaniel realized what the other man had done with his visual display of striking his blade into the ground. Avery was no longer in contact with his sword, but he was still very much in control of its power. Even Nathaniel had not thought it possible to command the swords without having physical contact with them. Yet Avery had learned to do just that. It did not matter if he could somehow disarm Avery – the faux-God had already disarmed himself. And he still commanded Two.

  Bitterly, Nathaniel calmly closed the distance between himself and Avery. His knuckles popped with the force he exerted on the hilt of One, reminding him of the disadvantage he had against the other sword wielder: he could not release his sword and still command it's power. Avery had.

  The taller man stopped a mere footfall from his opponent. Avery had not displayed any sign of insecurity. The other man was absolutely confident in the scenario he had created. In this moment, Avery may as well have genuinely been a God for as powerless as Nathaniel was in his presence.

  “This isn't over,” Nathaniel said.

  “No, it's not,” agreed Avery. “But this will be the end for now.”

  With a fury that boiled his blood, Nathaniel stabbed his own blade into the ground beside Two. He reached over his shoulder, removing the sheath and the string binding it from his back, casting it to the dirt beside One. He then took two steps back.

  “Now release your magic. Free these people as you promised.”

  Nathaniel would have expected Avery's smile to be condescending, mocking. Instead, the expression on the smaller man's face was actually one of warmth and acceptance. “You may not realize it now, but I hope someday you will believe that I am glad the Nine were right about you.”

  With that, Avery stepped forward and lifted One from its berth in the ground. Now his smile did reflect the satisfaction of victory. But it was short lived.

  “Take one more piece of knowledge with you,” said the fake God. “Go home. Rest. The winter will not see the awakening of any other swords. We will not see Three until then. Trust me in this.”

  Avery took a step back and away from the other sword, throwing a duplicate sheath to the one Nathaniel had disowned down beside it. “Two is yours. It needs a bearer, and no one person should wield more than one of the Nine. I have One, and that is enough for me.”

  The light of the sun blinded Nathaniel as the great canopy parted and the walls fell out and away from the town. Within minutes, the water had completely disappeared, rolling harmlessly back into the sea. If it were not for the damp, cloying feel of moisture still in the air, he might have been able to convince himself that the wall of water had been only an elaborate illusion.

  As Nathaniel blinked, he realized suddenly that Avery was gone, vanished with the power of One's magic.

  “Now!” came a resounding voice, echoing from on high.

  The ground quaked and everyone save Nathaniel fell to the ground. Even he struggled to remain standing, the strength of his legs taxed beyond belief by the effort. Once he felt he had mastered his own balance again, he looked up to find the cause of the assault.

  Two beings stood before him, one in long flowing robes, and another in elaborate plate, his face masked behind a featureless helmet.

  “Your time is at hand, Godslayer!” bellowed the helmed figure. “Justice has come to claim your soul!”

  Chapter 22

  Nathaniel sacrificed his footing to make a leap for Two. He landed forcefully on his stomach, the air knocked from his lungs and no idea where the sword had vanished to.

  The citizens of the town were attempting to flee, crawling and stumbling as best they could in all directions, more than not colliding with each other as they tried to escape. The ground continued to roll out from under them, leaving them disoriented and panicked.

  Not the only ones, thought Nathaniel, pulling himself up to his hands and knees, forcing air painfully into his lungs.

  “Stand and face us, Godslayer!” Shouted the other figure. “Do not cower now! Here we are – slay us, if you think you are able!” The figure guffawed at his own crude humor.

  As Nathaniel rolled onto his back, he saw a third figure appear in the air behind the other two. “It's that one, you dolts! The one you're having a hard time looking straight at!” The figure pointed directly at where Nathaniel lay looking up at the trio of what could only be Gods – and since he did not recognize a one of them, they could only be of the New Order.

  The mortal champion of the Pantheon managed to get his feet back under him, casting his eyes around for where Two had been. His own unsteadiness and the shifting crowd hid the sword from his line of sight.

  The ground split below Nathaniel, forcing him to leap to the side to avoid falling. A great rent continued to widen where his feet had been, a foreboding reminder of the power these beings possessed.

  “I thought you were Greater Powers!” shouted the third God hovering behind the other two. “Do something great already and crush him like a bug!”

  “Silence, Ankor,” bellowed the helmed God. “I do not see you doing anything to advance the cause!”

  “That's your job, Kelvor. Remember?” The God named Ankor simulated a dullard's face as he said, “You big justice dude. Me stupid joke dude. Me puny God. You not so puny God.”

  The helmed figure sprouted a third arm from his shoulder and swatted at the one hanging in the air behind him. “Enough!”

  The mocking deity flirted out of the way easily, but stayed a greater distance from the other two. “For the last time, him, not me, you dolt!”

  Without warning, the third God vanished, but his voice just as abruptly spoke from over his shoulder. “It's getting to where you just don't know who's really on your side anymore.”

  Nathaniel turned quickly, catching the momentary beaming face of the mischievous God before he vanished yet again. Whose side is he supposed to be on?

  Just then, Nathaniel saw Two briefly as the crowd began to thin out. How he had managed to
roll so far from it, he had no clue. But he needed to bridge the distance and soon if he had any chance of surviving.

  Where are the Old Gods at a time like this? No sooner had he thought this though than their champion remembered – the Pantheon was forbidden by covenant from fighting other Gods. He was on his own. So if he could not reach the sword, his quest would end here and now, and the Old Gods would just move on to another candidate for Avatar.

  Nathaniel turned his attention back to his opponents in time to see the robed deity bearing down on him. He braced himself for the impact, but the God had other ideas, flinging his arms outward at the man. A great force struck Nathaniel mid-body, throwing him backwards, the air once again knocked from his lungs.

  The man looked to where he had seen Two, now even further away. The task of getting back to the sword was becoming less and less likely. And the Gods were not done with him yet.

  A solid hand gripped Nathaniel's shirt and yanked him into the air. Nathaniel looked into the polished surface of the helmed God, the one the obnoxious God had called Kelvor. He remembered this one, at least – Kelvor was the God of Justice, rumored to be the other face of Death.

  “Confess!” demanded the God. “Declare how it is that such a weak mortal was capable of taking the life of a Goddess, and I will make your send swift!”

  Nathaniel twisted in the God's grasp, choking for breath. His eyes darted again to the mystic sword that represented his only hope, an impossible distance away.

  Kelvor did not relent, shaking Nathaniel hard when the man proved incapable of responding. “Answer, miscreant! Divulge your secrets!”

  “You're gonna kill him if you can't play nicely,” spoke the impish God Kelvor had named Ankor.

  So this is the one who knows about the swords? The man realized he should have drawn the connection when the name was first uttered, but he also acknowledged he had been more concerned with saving his own life.

  Kelvor grunted and released his hold somewhat, giving Nathaniel a chance to breathe in again. Gasping, Nathaniel struggled for a plan that could somehow free him. Then it struck him like the power of Kelvor's fist.