“Demonkind,” said the Naga derisively. “Not that they couldn’t use a good slapping-down, but using the God Stone would be like hunting rabbits with a sea serpent.”
“A new threat has emerged among the demons – a massively powerful lord they call Bakal,” the old man said. “I have reason to believe that the Shard is necessary to defeat him.”
Did the Naga’s eyes flicker at the demon’s name, or was Nira imagining things? “Be that as it may,” Tychus said, “it is not easily handled. That Shard of glass contains some of the essence of one of the gods of antiquity. You can’t just pick it up and throw it at things you don’t like.” He flipped a hand through his curled coiffure, seeming offended.
“Gods,” sneered Renna. “Why can’t anyone just admit they don’t know where things come from and leave it at that?”
Gamarron waved her into sullen silence. “Forgive us. We are unfamiliar with the gods of the Naga.”
Tychus gaped at him and each of the others in turn. He shook his head. “Oh, humans,” he said, sounding genuinely sorrowful. “Too much has been taken from you.”
“Meaning what?” snapped Renna.
“Meaning that they’re not just my gods, they’re your gods, and everybody else’s too. And it’s not just religious tradition, it’s a matter of record. Well-kept and painstakingly preserved records. Not legend – fact.” He spoke gently, as one might when delivering bad news to a small child.
“Our gods?” Renna sputtered. “The only god I’ve ever heard of is Gaia, and she’s… how can there be gods we’ve never heard of?” She seemed outraged at the idea.
“Because we stole the records,” admitted Tychus, “a long, long, long time ago, and once the gods left us, there was no one to remind the humans of what they once knew.” He looked at his hands. “It may be the worst thing my people ever did.”
“Who are these gods?” Gamarron asked, intrigued. “What are their names?”
“Those are not sounds that can come out of this mouth,” said the Naga with surprising gravity and reverence.
“What does it matter?” Renna mumbled. “We need the Shard. I don’t care if it has my grandmother’s essence in it.” As much as she hated the woman, Nira was inclined to agree with her on this point. Gods were for fools and simpletons.
Tychus took a breath as if to remonstrate with her, but merely shook his head and held his peace. “You can’t just walk up and grab it, you know. It will kill you.”
Gamarron held up a finger with a slight smile. “On that front I may just have more information than you. I have it on excellent authority that a human from the Mainland can touch the Shard. The girl here has agreed to risk it.”
Nira scowled. ‘Agreed to’ isn’t exactly how I’d put it. In the end, though, she knew she would do it.
Tychus appeared to consider the idea for the first time. “If you took the God Stone, it would look like the matrons had lost the divine mandate. What I wouldn’t give to see that! But do you realize what they would do to regain it? The battles you humans have faced until now would look like child’s play compared to the fury they would rain down on you if they discover that humans have taken the centerpiece of our worship. The losses would be terrible.”
“You ask us to consider a possible destruction when we face an inevitable one without the Chaos Shard. Bakal will be the end of humanity.” Gamarron wiped a hand over his face and pulled on his beard. It was an uncommon display of emotion from the old man. “When he attacked my people, I… I heard his thoughts. I knew what he wanted.”
“Did you?” the Naga asked tonelessly.
“He must be stopped. He must. If it means war with your people, so be it.” The savage’s face was drawn and resolute, and Nira thought she had never seen him look so old.
The Naga shrugged gracefully. “When in the company of madmen, it is unwise to argue. I can lead you to the Shard.” He paused. “Will you bring it back when you have defeated your demon?” The young male twined his fingers together, conflicted. “It is important to us.”
“I do not desire power for its own sake,” Gamarron said. “If I live, I will return the Shard to your people.”
Renna grunted, and Nira could almost hear her thinking We’ll see about that.
Tychus eyed the humans critically. “I don’t think you’re going to like this next part.” He crossed to the side of the room where the root vegetables were heaped and pulled at a section of earthen wall. It came away in his hand and revealed itself to be a cloth curtain that matched the color of the earth precisely. Behind it was a low hole in the ground, irregularly shaped and not much wider than Gamarron’s shoulders. “We go through here. I’m afraid that when I made this, I never expected to be entertaining humans in my hidey-hole.” He shrugged fluidly. “However, a little dirt and dark is preferable to discovery and death, yes? Best to keep that in mind if you get uncomfortable.”
Guyrin was staring at the hole in undisguised horror and shaking his head. Renna crossed to the recalcitrant chaos wielder, speaking in low, calming tones as she fished out a phial of his drugs. The little man reached eagerly for the vidrin, but she withheld it, looking him in the eyes and repeating her low-spoken words. Nira couldn’t quite make out what she was saying, but as soon as Guyrin nodded, she surrendered the drugs. He gulped them down without delay, slumping with relief against a luminescent root as the mixture took effect.
Into the tunnel they went, and Nira soon discovered that Tychus hadn’t been lying: being hemmed in with earth in pitch darkness was not pleasant for humans. Guyrin was at her heels, whispering to himself. “I can see
