Voice of the Gods

As Mirar’s presence vanished from their link, Surim sighed.

:I do wish you’d stop encouraging him like that, sister.

42

The ache in her shoulders had become a sharp pain, while her hands had lost feeling some time ago. Auraya opened her eyes and forced her legs to straighten. Her knees popped and her thigh muscles began to tremble.

This isn’t good, she thought. I’m getting weaker. I must exercise. She flexed her muscles, moving her weight from leg to leg. As feeling came back to her hands it seemed as if a thousand needles were piercing her skin. What I wouldn’t do for a chair...

Suddenly the pain increased tenfold as something touched her arm. She gasped and looked up, then gasped again in surprise as two round eyes stared into hers.

“Mischief!”

The veez was on the seat of the throne, leaning over to regard her. He dropped down and she winced as he landed on her sore shoulders.

“What are you doing here?” she whispered. “I told you to stay with the nice servant.”

“Owaya,” he said, his whiskers tickling her ear. “Bad man. Chase.”

He was radiating fear and agitation. Concentrating on his thoughts, she picked up flashes of memory. A man he recognized. One who had been with her a lot. Shouting. Dodging magic. Fleeing.

“Nekaun,” Auraya hissed. “He tried to kill you.” She sent the veez a feeling of sympathy and pride. Clever Mischief.

He nudged her ear. “Scratch.”

“I can’t,” she told him, demonstrating by pulling against the chains. “Auraya caged.”

“Free Owaya,” he said decisively. Running up her arm, he sniffed the cuffs. She felt a thrill of hope and looked toward the Servant guards. They appeared to be absorbed in conversation. Mischief’s whiskers quivered, then his ears suddenly lay flat. She sensed his confusion, and she suddenly understood.

“No magic,” she explained. “No magic here. You use magic to undo locks.”

The veez did not understand. He leapt up onto the throne seat and crouched at the edge. His fur stood on end and she sensed he was deeply unhappy.

She could say nothing to reassure him, so she said nothing at all. Sighing, she closed her eyes and sent her mind out into the world.

By habit she brushed the minds of the two Servants guarding her. They were in the midst of discussing the two times Sheyr had possessed mortals and entered the hall. It hadn’t occurred to them that the god might not have been the one he appeared to be. They didn’t know that one of the men had gone mad, and that the other now woke several times each night screaming. She knew this from skimming their minds.

Moving beyond, she picked up the thoughts of other Servants. Their minds were full of their daily tasks, petty grievances, gossip, friends and family, and war. She skimmed through these looking for anything unusual. Nekaun’s name caught her attention several times. A few women, Servant and domestic, contemplated with unease his visit to their bedchamber. Auraya shied away from these recollections, then stumbled upon the domestic who had been caring for Mischief. She was heartened to see that the woman was upset, both by Nekaun’s attempt to kill the veez and that the creature hadn’t come back.

Leaving the Sanctuary, Auraya flitted through the mind of Glymma’s citizens. Their thoughts were on the usual concerns: work, family, love, hunger, food, ambition, pain and pleasure. War was on everyone’s mind.

The previous day she had managed to reach beyond the city limits to some of the riverside villages. Today she stretched her senses out in a different direction. There were fewer minds, which was unsurprising since all appeared to be surrounded by desert sands. Most were focused on using magic and physical skill to control some kind of vehicle. Looking closer, she slowly came to understand these were boats driven by the wind that slid over the desert sand.

Looks like fun, she thought.

:Auraya!

At the call her mind shifted automatically into a dream trance.

:Mirar?

:How are you?

:Tired. Sore. Nekaun tried to kill Mischief. He’s here now.

:The bastard. It’s a shame these people are ruled by such a man. The rest of them seem a lot nicer.

:Even Shar, the one who had his vorn kill innocent people in Toren?

:Well... I haven’t spoken to him much so far. Anyway, I have to tell you something. The other immortals said you should know.

:The other Wilds?

:Yes. Emerahl, and a few others who managed to avoid being killed by the White.

:Emerahl?

:The woman who taught you to hide your mind.

:Oh! Jade.

:Yes. Jade. Emerahl. The Hag. He paused. They’re very concerned about you and have been helping me try to find a way to free you.

:They have? Even though I’m a White?

:You’re not a White any more, Auraya.

:Oh. That’s right. But still. Me, an ally of gods and all that.

:Are you sure you’re okay?

:Yes. Just tired. What did these Wilds want to tell me?

:I can only tell you what the others feel you can be trusted to know, he said.

She forced herself to concentrate.

:So there’s more that they don’t trust me to know?

:Yes.

:And you agree?

:Let’s just say I know which secrets you can be burdened with, and which you can’t.

She considered his words and found herself liking him for them. He wants to tell me something, but he doesn’t want to put me in a difficult position.

:So what are these secrets you can trust me with?

:There’s a story to it. I can’t name all involved, but since you’ve met Emerahl I can safely describe her part in it.

He explained briefly about the rumors of a Scroll containing secrets about the gods, and that Emerahl had found it.

:This is the task she had to delay in order to teach me?

:Yes. Now, this Scroll was made by Sorli’s last priest... He went on to relate the story on the Scroll. There were six gods at the end of the war, he told her. Sorli killed herself after having the secrets of the gods preserved for others to find.

:And you found the secrets?

:Emerahl did, and she deciphered them. This is what the others agreed I could tell you: all of the gods were born mortal, became immortals like us, then transformed themselves into gods.

:They were Wilds first?

:Yes. And they were once ordinary mortals, with powerful Gifts. There’s more. You’re not going to like it. I don’t think anyone’s going to like it. The gods certainly aren’t going to like anyone knowing. I could ch—