by
Marc H. Wyman & Chris Bogues
XXVIII. Confrontation <=== / ===>
XXX. Passage Opened (coming on Friday, February 21 2003)
XXIX.
Predator Revealed
Flashes
lightened the dawning day over the top of the city walls. Shenaumac was
rather happy that the lightning came from outside. He’d stationed
himself near Mannannan’s lake, just in case the seagod noticed the
battle. A flick of his hand, and a block of buildings would have collapsed
into the lake, giving Mannannan a lot of repair work to do. Knowing him as
well as Shenaumac did, half a day would have passed before Mannannan would
have gone looking for the cause of the collapse.
Alas,
there was no need for that. Although the first flashes had still been
within the city limits, they had quickly moved outside, far enough away
that nobody inside was likely to take note. Unless that person happened to
know about Lonapal and Taurkémad seeking to take vengeance on Koultirsp.
“For
my poor Tiger,” Shenaumac smiled. “I’m so touched.” At that time,
Tiger was back in the god’s home, curled up on his blanket and sleeping
the nap of the gorged. He’d still been grinning when he fell asleep,
with nearly a whole eagle inside his now tiny stomach.
He
was slowly drifting through the air towards the city walls, to perch
himself on their battlements and watch the proceedings outside. Half an
hour’s fighting, and the ferocity of the lightning bolts had barely
waned. He supposed that an hour more would pass before either of the
combatants fell, or all three of them weakened too much to continue their
fight.
Well,
he could wait that long. He cast a quick glance over to Decirius’ tower.
It looked more foreboding than it had the previous day. Had Alyssa and
Darawk distracted him enough? Judging by their little appearance at his
home (his ribs started hurting again in memory), they should have proved
irritating enough to the chief god.
On
the other hand, Shenaumac was a bit irritated that Decirius hadn’t seen
fit to call him in. After all, wasn’t the God of Sharpened Things
supposed to be his loyal assistant? He grinned. “Loyal. That’s me.”
His
grin suddenly vanished when a loud and booming noise washed over him,
along with an explosion of orange light that seemed to penetrate all solid
objects. He shook his head quickly, squinted at where the light had
originated. A cloud rose into the sky, billowing up like a mushroom.
Silence followed the boom, deafening after the loud noise.
“What
have you done?” Shenaumac wondered – then gathered his wits and looked
back into the city. Just to make sure he cast bolts of lightning at a few
fountains in the city, evaporating their water, cracking the marble. Not
quite the effect that he had had in mind for Mannannan, but it should
suffice for the moment. As for the rest…
Decirius
and Haguen couldn’t fail to notice this! If Darawk and Alyssa
were still nearby, they’d surely follow it up.
“Better
hurry,” he told himself and sped up to a blur, rushing towards the
mushroom cloud rising.
His
frown intensified when he saw the fires that were burning in the hills,
consuming the grass and bushes that had been torn from their roots by an
intense shockwave. A creek – not Mannannan’s green-speckled favorite
– seemed to have vaporized, only a few drops of moisture remaining. The
air was warm. It seemed to burn by itself, if that were possible.
Perhaps
it was. Shenaumac had never paid that much attention to the details of the
world. Physics had never been a favorite topic of his.
Neither
did he care to learn more about it today. He had to find out what – or
rather, who – had caused this explosion. And who had survived.
He
nearly flew by one survivor. That one was in a burning field, entangled in
the smoldering limbs of a pear tree – no more than a black, sooty
figure, with flames dancing all over it. But then the figure cried in a
cracking, husky voice, “Shenaumac… here… down here…”
The
God of Sharpened Things stopped, stared in shock at the figure.
“Pally?!”
“Yes,”
Lonapal breathed. His hands started moving, trembling and shivering under
the strain as he lifted a branch from his chest, tried – and failed –
to raise his head. “Help me!”
Shenaumac
raised an eyebrow, then eliminated the flames around Lonapal and landed.
With a slight motion he made the pear tree’s husk vanish, then he knelt
down next to the God of Light. “Did Koultirsp do this?”
Lonapal
forced himself to look at the other god. His lips moved, cracked, blood
exiting from the cracks as he tried to smile. “No… That was I…
She… denied her deeds.”
“Did
she?” Shenaumac asked while he gently lifted Lonapal’s upper body and
held it so that he could look straight into the god’s eyes.
“Yes,”
Lonapal answered, a trace of vengeful righteousness in his voice. “She
dared… claim innocence!”
“Is
Koultirsp dead? And Taurkémad, too?” the God of Sharpened Things asked.
Lonapal
frowned. “I don’t know about… Taurkémad… She fell, that’s…
when I launched the blast… But Koultirsp…” His eyes glazed over from
distant joy. “She’s dead, I know that. Vengeance. For my
eagle… For Tiger… For the dwarves…” His voice broke, blood
bubbling up between his lips. Lonapal clawed with his hand at
Shenaumac’s shoulder. “Help me, my friend, please! Bring… me back to
my place, tell Decirius…” His head lolled back, his hand dropped, and
the god focused all his strength on staying alive.
Shenaumac
nodded slowly. “Deecee, right. Well,” he shrugged and smiled at the
injured God of Light, “I’ll tell him that you went mad. You murdered
Taurkémad and Koultirsp, then you died from your wounds.”
“What?”
Lonapal asked, his eyes widening in disbelief.
“A
pity, really,” Shenaumac continued casually. “I would have liked to
learn that trick with the explosion. So devastating, I hadn’t thought
you of all the gods could have done this. Shame that you died.”
“I’m…
not dead!” Lonapal insisted, tried to roll himself out of Shenaumac’s
grasp. His hands started to glow softly, sparkles rising from the
fingertips as if he was trying to cast a bolt of lightning.
Shenaumac
blinked, woke from his reverie and told the god in his arms, “Sorry,
Pally, my mistake.” His fingers behind the god’s back changed, merged
into a single, gleaming blade. With a swift motion he stuck the blade into
Lonapal’s back, straight through the heart. The god spasmed. Shenaumac
held him tightly. “See? Now you’re dead. And I don’t think Deecee is
going to wonder where your energy has gone. Or who has taken it.”
He
savored the moment, then leaned forward and pushed his other hand into the
dead god’s chest, looking hard into the broken eyes. Energy sparkled,
divine power flowed into Shenaumac’s hands, and he moaned in quick
pleasure when he sucked all the strength from Lonapal into himself.
“Thank you, Pally,” he whispered. “You’re feeding me even better
than your eagle did my little Tiger.”
Shenaumac’s
exhilaration faded quickly as he left the charred corpse and flew on to
find the remains of the two goddesses. Yes, he had completely assimilated
Lonapal’s powers. But he had expected them to be immediately available
to him – he’d already prepared an explanation if another deity
wondered about his new-found strength.
To
his regret, the new powers were as weakened as Lonapal had been. Killing
him, in fact, had nearly extinguished them. At least they still had their
full potential, which was all that Shenaumac should care about. With rest,
with practice, he would gain all the strength – but that would take
time, and he didn’t want to wait any longer. He’d been the weakest of
the gods for far too long.
He
yearned to add Koultirsp’s and Taurkémad’s essence to his. Maybe the
three gods together could give him enough satisfaction to last a few days.
All
right, on the other hand, he thought, I won’t have to use any
excuses. Deecee will think that it’s the sapients’ worship that
enhances my strength.
He
still wanted the other essences and increased his speed. He was
approaching the origin of the blast. The mushroom cloud was around him,
would have blinded him if he hadn’t altered his eyes to see through
them. A little bit further, and there –
Yearning
hit him like a wall when he saw the body of Koultirsp lying on the ground,
twisted, mangled, torn. Shreds were all that remained of her physical
appearance. But… how could he drain her powers, how –
“Oh,
yes!” He halted his flight, spread out his arms. The essence was all
around him, diffused into the air, dispersing ever further. “Come to
me,” he whispered and drew the essence to him, as much as he could
grasp. He felt as if he were pulling smoke, so wide and thin had the
essence become.
It
didn’t matter. He got it. Most of it, anyway.
Unfortunately,
he realized, it was even more devastated that Lonapal’s had been and
would take that much longer to become usable. I have to drain a god
right after killing. That’s the only way to get a decent charge out of
it. He determined to remember that if the chance would occur again. Or
if he arranged for another opportunity.
For
now, though, he had to find Taurkémad. Hopefully she was still alive so
he could kill her…
He
searched the area. In vain. There was no trace of the goddess. Had she
been incinerated by the blast?
“Doubtful,”
he muttered. Koultirsp had been at the center of the explosion, and there
had been something left of her. Taurkémad must have been a bit further
away, maybe as far away as Lonapal, and he had survived. “Where are you,
Taurk?” he cried.
The
only answer was the wind blowing in, starting to scatter the mushroom
cloud.
Shenaumac
shook his head. He would have to search for the goddess at a later time.
Decirius would surely notice the explosion, and the God of Sharpened
Things would rather be someplace else when Decirius came to investigate.
He wasn’t strong enough yet to face the chief god.
Not
yet.
Shenaumac
smiled softly, then transported himself back to his home, to play with
Tiger and look forward to what spoils the future would bring his way.
Look
for Part XXX on Friday, February 21 2003!
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