Voice of the Gods

The diagram could be seen with one light, and it was the key to the rest.

Two lights / two truths

It was so simple! Two lights might make the shadows overlap in a way that created different shapes. Possibly even glyphs.

She cast about. The ship was a simple merchant vessel. Its wide hull was used to carry cargo, not passengers. All the crew were on deck. They didn’t sleep at sea as the journey across the Gulf could be made in a night or a day. She doubted they went below except to check the cargo or take up food or fresh water.

There was a way she could go below and ensure she would not be disturbed. Moving to the captain’s side, she waited until he turned to look at her.

“I need a little private time,” she said to him, smiling wryly. “Is below decks suitable?”

He nodded once. “I’ll make sure no one goes below. There’s a pot down there.”

“Thank you.”

He gestured to the hatch. A few of the crew nodded to her as she passed them. She nodded back, sensing that curiosity had replaced anxiety over her presence now that they had left Glymma. The story she had told the captain was that her husband had come to Glymma a few months before, hoping to find a trading partner. He had left her behind while he returned to settle business in Sennon. The war had prevented him returning for her so she had to flee on her own.

Reaching the hatch, she climbed down a ladder into the dark. She created a spark of light and looked for the pot. The captain might suspect she’d been stealing or snooping through their goods if she didn’t use it. She found it not far from where they had stowed the travel chest she had bought for the treasure.

Taking a length of string from her pack, she tied it to hooks for securing goods on either side of the hull then folded her shawl over it. If someone did come below they would assume she had hung it up for privacy.

Checking that the pot was clean, she turned it upside down, sat on it and drew the pendant out from beneath her clothes.

It was not easy holding the diamond steady in a rocking ship. Eventually she used magic to suspend it in the air. Creating a spark, she moved it within the diamond and turned it so that the “key” face cast shadows onto her shawl.

Examining the diagram she felt a thrill of excitement. One dotted line crossed one side of the octagon, two the next, three the following and four the last. The numbers might relate to angles. She wouldn’t be sure until she tried.

Turning the pendant so the two lights / two truths side faced the shawl, she introduced another light. She moved the two lights around in the center of the diamond. As they drew further apart she saw the shadows on the shawl passing each other. Suddenly she glimpsed recognizable glyphs. She halted the movement of the sparks and drew them a little closer again.

There! That’s it!

Normal Sorli glyphs covered her shawl. Whispering a cheer of triumph, she began to read.

When Surim had first come to the swamp he had thought it an ugly, smelly place. After a few thousand years of living in luxury, the muddy, constantly damp, wild surroundings had seemed like a place out of his worst nightmare.

But as he had learned to live there he had grown to appreciate its beauty. So much life, he thought as he guided the boat through the water. All this variety in plant, animal and insect, all in one unique place. The local people appreciated this to a point. They adapted their lives to fit the swamp as much as they adapted the swamp to fit their lives. Outsiders did not understand it - did not try to understand it. They cut down the trees, dredged out deeper, wider rivers and tried to drain the waterlogged land.

The swamp was beautiful during the day, but eerie at night. Without his light to illuminate the way, Surim would have been lost in utter darkness. He ducked under a web stretched across the river, then turned back and saluted the enormous spider waiting in the middle.

“Have a care where you weave your webs or you will be my dinner,” he told the spider. Turning back, he looked up at the rock wall ahead. Guiding his boat along this, he listened to the sounds of the swamp. Each chirrup, buzz and cry brought its owner to his mind’s eye. A rainbow flier buzzed past his ear. A distant honk of a randy swamp bogger was answered from somewhere close by.

Guiding the boat around a bend in the river, he steered it toward dark holes in the base of the rock wall. As it drifted inside, the shadows appeared to shrink away from his light.

“Flee, shadows!” he whispered. “Flee as fast as you can!”

The boat emerged into a cavern. Another light and a figure drew him toward the far side. Tamun’s arms were crossed.

“You’re late.”

“Am I?” He smiled. “I didn’t know I was supposed to be anywhere at any particular time.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “You know what I mean. You usually return before dark.”

“I do,” he agreed. “It was an unusual night. Or the usual unusual night.” He guided the boat up to the ledge and rose. “How many times does it have to be unusual for it to be a usual unusual night?”

She sniffed. “A lot less than the number of times you’ve asked such ridiculous questions. Hurry up. Emerahl has deciphered the secrets.” Turning away, she walked through the ledge into the caves.

A rush of excitement went through Surim. He leapt out of the boat and quickly tied it up, then hurried after her.

Gods were notoriously unwilling to discuss their own limitations, to mortals or immortals. When he and Tamun had seen hints that there might be a scroll full of secrets of a dead god somewhere in Southern Ithania the knowledge had been painfully tantalizing. He had considered leaving the cave to seek it himself. It was almost worth the risk he might be discovered by the gods. Almost. What had stopped him wasn’t the thought that the gods might notice him and arrange for him to be killed, but that Tamun would be left alone for so long. For the first time in two millennia. He liked to think he could survive without her. Of them both, he had changed the most in the last century. He didn’t want to risk that she couldn’t survive without him.

Our strength is our weakness. Our weakness our strength. Separating our bodies was hard enough to accept. Death is unimaginable.

Then Emerahl had come along and happily taken up the Quest for the Scroll of the Gods. Tamun thought she had taken too great a risk in leaving the Thinkers and gambling that the secrets were among the treasure. Surim didn’t care. Only someone willing to take a few risks would have undertaken the search in the first place. And Emerahl had been right.

He followed Tamun up to their favorite cave. They both lay down in the nest of cushions Tamun had made. He heard her take a deep breath, then let it out slowly. Closing his eyes, he slipped effortlessly into the link trance and entwined his mind with Tamun’s.

:Emerahl? they called.

:Tamun. Surim. At last.

:Greetings, Surim, another voice said.

Surim felt a mild surprise.

:Gull?

:Yes. It is I.

:I thought he might want to hear what she has to say, Tamun explained. And The Gull agreed that it was time Mirar knew of his existence.

:And I am still getting over the surprise, Mirar added.

:Save that for later, Emerahl said. I have worked out how to see the glyphs within the pendant.

As she described her discovery Surim felt a wry amusement.

:It is so simple, Emerahl finished. I can’t believe I didn’t see it at