May the Void drown me in shit. I’m not going to let this happen. I don’t care if we all die.
Sakaj leaped two steps toward Harik and kicked his feet from under him. His back hit the grass, and he stared up at her with his stupid, fish-eyed expression. She didn’t hesitate before hurling herself down at him, the point of her elbow aimed at the center of his face. Krak and Fingit were yelling, and Lutigan brushed her shoulder as he grabbed for her. She landed with all her weight on Harik’s nose, smashing it with a crunching sound that provided her enormous satisfaction. His nose penetrated his brain, and the God of Death’s eyes went blank in an instant.
Now everyone was shouting. As Krak stalked toward her, Sakaj rolled to her knees and said, “A shame about Harik. He won’t be collecting from the Nub now, though.”
Everyone stopped, and Sakaj stood. “However, the Nub knows my name. I predict he’ll call on me. So, unless you want to scratch at dirt, grunt, and pass waste from your butt like humans for an eon or two—at best—I’m the only chance you have left.”
Fifteen
(Sakaj)
Harik’s dead, smashed face stared up into the window on man. He looked as if he were still longing for the power—and the license to gloat that he’d almost won. Without the Nub’s power, the gods might still have a small chance to escape annihilation, only to fall into degradation.
Sakaj gazed at the corpse’s face from one foot away. That slop-pool was far more concerned about gloating than about saving the gods.
Lutigan sighed. “I never liked Harik, but he was family. Maybe the rutting dog jumped away in time. But he was surprised, and he was drunk, and he never was all that bright.”
Fingit squinted at Sakaj, who still crouched over Harik’s body like a panther, feral and regal. He whispered, “Maybe the Veil didn’t make her crazy. Maybe she’s crazy all on her own.”
Sakaj turned and grinned at him.
Every god had elevated every other god thousands of times, except for Krak, who had never been elevated by one of his children. They had murdered out of anger, frustration, or just because there wasn’t anything else fun to do. The victim always returned the next day, in all his divine perfection, so it hadn’t mattered that much. The Dark Lands had introduced them to death everlasting.
Krak stomped toward Sakaj, who could almost feel the ground trembling. She stood, and he stopped chest-to-face with her, overwhelming her slight form with his imponderable presence.
She set her shoulders back and smiled at him.
Krak spoke with the sound of mountains being crushed. “Betrayer, you have slain your brother and snatched your chance. So make it good. Do you need power to trade?”
Sakaj stepped away from Krak and shook her head. “I hid the power that Fingit gave me when he first swindled the Nub. Back when he was in love with me.” She blew a kiss at Fingit and looked back up at the Nub, who still crouched in the darkness.
“Harik! Harik!” the Nub called to the gods. “Where are you? Are all the gods at some festival? Who takes care of existence while they’re drunk and screwing around?” The Nub giggled with a touch of hysteria. “Harik?”
Louze had come within a hundred feet of the Nub when the sorcerer silently called, “Sakaj?”
Sakaj answered, “Yes, mighty sorcerer, I hear you.”
Fingit looked away.
Sakaj smiled at Fingit’s back. I suppose he’d almost rather be expunged from the universe than watch me appropriate his sorcerer.
The Nub appeared from darkness. “What’s wrong?”
“How do you mean, Nub?” Sakaj asked.
“You called me mighty sorcerer, even though I’m squatting here all beaten up with things cut off me and filth on my ass. I’m as vain as any other sorcerer, but I’m not pure-bone stupid. So, what’s wrong?”
“Are you quite certain you wish to speak to the Goddess of the Unknowable in that way?”
The Nub shrugged. “Oh, I apologize for saying that. I also want to say that your approach is as clumsy as it is obvious. I could call you a sickly cow too, but that would be rude.”
“Aren’t you charming?” Sakaj flung the Nub back into the world of man.
Fingit grabbed at the sleeve of Sakaj’s blue gown. “Bring him back and let me talk to him!”
The Nub silently said, “Whenever you’re ready, Sakaj. I don’t hold a grudge.”
Louze walked another twenty feet closer to the Nub, who silently said, “Fine, Sakaj. I’ll take him with my little stick-knife. Watch me.”
Sakaj uttered a lengthy, complex curse involving the Void, the Five Demon Cows of the Fissures, three bodily functions, two intimate parts of Krak’s body, and a cactus. Then she pulled the Nub up to trade. “You know very well that torturer will spill your intestines and fertilize a garden on that spot with them.”
“Maybe. I won’t trade just anything to you, even for my life.” The Nub crossed his arms.
“So you say before you’re under his blade, Nub.”
Krak whispered, “Just trade something with the little peach pit, already!”
“So you say, mighty Sakaj. I think we understand one another better.”
Sakaj sneered and let it fill her voice. “Oh, you may be sure that we do.” The Nub doesn’t understand anything about anything. Perhaps I can squeeze him dry of everything he values. I’ll ruin him for Fingit!
“I want power.” The Nub said it as if he were asking for a clean mug. “Five squares should be enough. Please make an offer.”
Sakaj took a breath, calmed herself, and made her voice as languid as a serpent. “Since I have already anticipated everything you could possibly say to me, I have an offer at hand. For five squares, you shall father a child and then leave it at the crossroads nearest its
