The Gods Awaken

CHAPTER FIFTY

Kalasariz never slept. Sleep was something that had been lost to him many years before when he'd pledged himself to the Spell of Four and became a shapechanger along with Iraj, Fari and Luka.

The spell had been broken, but in his new entity as a spirit-world parasite living within King Rhodesa€™

body he was permanently wide awake.

Unlike his former spell brothers, the spymaster considered this a blessing. In his previous existence he'd always hated the moment when the gods of slumber commanded his obedience. His father had been a seventh-generation priest. More to the point: his very name, Kalasariz, was the Walarian term for priest.

His mother had been a temple harlot enslaved to the priests and he had been seeded during a priestly orgy whose purpose was to cleanse sins by sinning. And to create sons for the priests to adopt and rear for their own holy purposes.

Kalasariz had soon learned he was better at ferreting out secrets to use against others than he was at religious scholarship. Better still was to forge those secrets into lies of solid gold. And Kalasariz had eventually sold out his own father with false charges that he was a heretic so that he might win his mantle as the supreme spy of all Walaria.

But deep inside Kalasariz he was still the son of a priest. And when he slept all his subsequent lies and murders sat heavily upon his soul. And so he'd always feared the night, because with it came terrible dreams of his transgressions, followed by imagined punishments for those sins.

Worse still, over the years those nightmares became increasingly and horribly complex because of all the enemies he'd made in his long career.

And so it was that when sleep overcame King Rhodes and he tossed and turned fitfully through the storm, dreaming bloody dreams much like those that had once afflicted Kalasariz, the spymaster was gleefully awake and guilt-free. Plotting his plots and conspiring in his conspiracies.

The best thing of all about his sleepless state was that he could keep constant control of Fari and Luka, who were enslaved in his ethereal belly. He kept their agonies constant and hot, so they didn't have time or energy to conspire against him.

Therefore, when Lady Lottyr came to him, spitting curses about Safar Timura and Iraj Protarus, Kalasariz was bright and alert and well aware that the goddess had suffered a defeat.

She called the incident in the castle a mere "setback," but he knew that this was only a hasty bit of fiction her pride had composed to lessen her humiliation. Failure and defeat dripped from every word she spoke.

"It was that demon brat Palimak who caught me out," she said. "Otherwise I would've crushed those fools who believe themselves to be the two kings Asper predicted would come."

Her six visages were terrible in their murderous beauty. And even though her visit to the spymaster was meant to be made in secret, she was so agitated that Rhodes would've been alerted to her presence if he had been awake.

Surely he would've caught the internal roiling Lottyr's frustration caused when she spoke to Kalasariz.

The spymaster's ambitions might have been badly harmed by this royal realization.

In all his days Kalasariz had never met another person-except for himself-as rightfully and unerringly on target as Rhodes was when he became suspicious.

Well, maybe more: There was Queen Clayre. Whose own suspicious nature made her son look like a naV ve peasant. But Lottyr had made her own false bargain with Clayre and had also cast certain spells that had dulled the witch's wary senses.

Lottyr laid out all the plans she'd heard the Kyranians discuss while she'd commanded Queen Yorlain's body.

"They'll attack the moment the storm ends," she said. "They're hoping to wound you severely, then withdraw. Negotiations will follow-all aimed at drawing things out long enough for them to strengthen their defenses."

Kalasariz asked, "Have you informed Clayre about their plans?"

"No," Lottyr answered, "but I intend to the moment I leave you. And when Rhodes awakes, I want you to instruct him."

A canny master of lies and half truths, Kalasariz knew very well that Lottyr had sworn to another bargain with Clayre. The goddess admitted as much when she spoke her puny lies, saying her pledge to Clayre meant nothing, while her promises to Kalasariz were solid as gold.

But which bargain would the goddess keep? Kalasariz knew better than to trust to chance for the outcome.

And so he said, "I have the advantage of long experience with Safar Timura. And also with Iraj Protarus.

They've never been defeated-especially when the two of them put their minds together."

Lottyr was angrily abrupt. "What of it?" she asked harshly. "They are nothing compared to me-the greatest goddess of the Hells!"

"Forgive me, Holy One," Kalasariz said, "but I'm only trying to point out that in any physical fight Safar Timura and Iraj Protarus are the likely victors. That is their history. Neither one has ever failed-even against each other. Timura defeated Protarus at Caluz. But Protarus, from what you say, now rules Timura's body. Tentative though that dominance may be.

"From what you've also said, they've made a pact with each other to oppose you. Isn't that so, Holy One?"

"Why are you spewing all this defeatist sewage at me?" Lottyr demanded, her twelve eyes burning with suspicion. "Do you want Timura and Protarus to win?"

"Absolutely not and forgive me if I gave you that impression, Holy One," Kalasariz hastened to say.

"However, you have asked my best advice. And it is my sad duty to say that my advice is for you to prepare for Rhodesa€™ and Clayre's failure."

Lottyr pealed chorused laughter, her six voices echoing so strongly that they resounded through Rhodesa€™ bones and the king kicked and swore in his sleep.

She waited until he rested again.

Then she said, "Know this, Kalasariz: when the dawn commences, it will be not one, but two battles Safar Timura and Iraj Protarus will have to fight."

And then she was gone. There was not even a flicker between her presence and her absence. One moment she was there, the next she wasn't.

In the distance the volcano rumbled into life. There was a heavy blast and an intense, fiery light poured into the king's pavilion.

Rhodes suddenly sat up, rubbing his eyes. Sleepily, he asked, "What's happening? Is there an attack?"

Kalasariz replied, "Go back to sleep, majesty. There's no reason for alarm."

And so Rhodes fell back on his soft pallet and slept.

Despite the tempest, Clayre was resting peacefully when the Lady Lottyr came to her.

But as soon as the Queen Witch sensed the goddess's presence she bolted up from her pallet.

"Is everything all right?" she asked.

And Lottyr said, "All is ready, my dearest one. I've only come to you to make assurances."

"What of my son?" Clayre asked. "Are we ready for him as well?"

Lottyr replied, "It's just as we planned, Clayre. At the dawn, when the first enemy arrows fall, your son will die."

Reassured, Clayre smiled. "It'll be good to be rid of him," she said. "He always was just like his father."

Despite his demon strength and speed, Palimak was no match for the infuriated Leiria.

He jumped in front of her to stop her charge against Iraj/Safar, but she only ghosted to the side and kicked his legs from under him.

Worse still, Jooli was on Leiria's heels, her own sword in hand to back up her friend. But Palimak snagged out a hand, demon claws scything out, and caught her by the ankle to bring her painfully down.

None of this mattered. The instant Leiria came within striking distance, she fed all of her hate for Iraj into the sword blow she struck.

Except, in mid cut, she saw that it was Safar she was also about to kill. One part of her wanted to halt the deadly blow. The other demanded that she ram her blade through Iraj's guts.

Between Palimak's feeble intervention and Leiria's hair's-breadth hesitation, Iraj stepped in, taking full command of Safar's body.

Safar almost used his own powers to slow Iraj down, but then he realized Iraj was only using his half-empty brandy goblet for a weapon and released all of his physical energy.

In that moment of hesitation he had three questions that were answered swiftly.

The first was the question of his own survival. If Leiria killed Iraj, Safar would die as well. However, that was of little importance to him. After all he'd experienced and all the people he believed he'd made suffer, death would be welcome. He ached for Leiria's slashing blade as a release from his guilt.

The second was that if Leiria succeeded the whole world was doomed. Except now Safar found himself beyond worlds and the fate of all living things. Let it happen, he thought. We deserve whatever comes!

The third cause of hesitation was that Leiria would never be able to forgive herself for what she'd done.

Safar thought, She loves me! And then he thought, by all that is holy, I love her too!

And so Safar let Iraj have his will.

The killing sword came in and Iraj, moving like lightning, stepped lightly into its sweeping arc, crashing the brandy goblet against the blade.

The goblet shattered, the sword went to the side, but all this was nothing to Leiria. She only shifted her grip, so that both her hands were on the sword's haft. Then she swung with power enough to cut a stone column in half.

But Iraj only continued his forward motion, stepping within the blade's path and grabbing Leiria by the throat with immensely strong fingers.

He squeezed and brought her choking to her knees.

"I am the only mortal-man, woman or demon-who can best you in a fight," Iraj said to her in his own voice. "Now, please remain quite still while I explain my intentions."

Leiria's answer was to drop her sword and draw her knife, thrusting it at his exposed belly.

With his free hand Iraj caught her attacking wrist, putting so much pressure on it that she had to let it fall.

Then he maintained the pressure there, just at the bone-breaking point.

And Iraj said, "Leiria, I love you more than I have ever loved another." Then he laughed bitterly. "That's not saying much, as I'm sure you understand. But I beg you, not because of my love but because of Safar's, to hear us both out!"

Leiria, face purpling from the grip Iraj had on her, nodded. And both Safar and Iraj understood she was making a promise.

Iraj released her and she fell back. And he said for all to hear, "Speak to them, Safar. Tell them what we have planned."

Then he relinquished all control over his brother/enemy and Safar found himself standing in his own body again, while Iraj curled up into the spirit nest he'd vacated.

But as before, Safar was quite blind. He knelt down beside Leiria, guided by her perfume. He reached out to touch her face. She flinched, but then relented as his blindness became apparent.

"Is it really you, Safar?" she asked, voice tremulous.

"I swear it is, Leiria," he replied. "And if you don't believe me, think back to the last time we saw each other in Esmir. Do you recall how we parted?"

Leiria nodded, then remembered that he could not see. And she said, quite softly, "Yes."

"I told you then that I planned to get Iraj's help to stop the machine in Caluz," he said. "Isn't that right?"

"I thought you were making a dark-humored joke," Leiria said as the memory of that sad day came flooding back. "I thought you were just sacrificing yourself to save us."

"As you know now," Safar said, "I did win Iraj's help. Although it was against his will. Well, only partly so. He wanted desperately to break the shapechanger's spell and escape Kalasariz and Fari and Luka.

And I gave him the means to do that."

"Is that how he ended up in your body?" Leiria asked.

"It's not so simple as that," Safar said, "but it's close enough. The main thing is, I didn't realize then that I truly did need Iraj's help. Not just to stop the machine in Caluz, but to end what is happening here."

"But how did he end up controlling you instead?" Leiria asked.

"I let him," Safar said. "We both need eyes to do our work. And he can give us sight." He smiled. "Of course, being Iraj, there were lies involved. And betrayal."

"And you're going to let him take over your body again, aren't you?" Leiria said.

"Yes," Safar replied. "I have no other choice. To awaken the gods and end this misery, Iraj and I must enter the hells and face Lady Lottyr. And we'll need eyes to do that."

Then he embraced her and kissed her, murmuring words of love. Leiria wasn't certain whether he meant them, or was only trying to comfort her.

Finally, Safar rose to his feet. Palimak came to him, hugging him fiercely.

"Isn't there something I can do, father?" he asked, tears welling up.

"If you mean about Iraj," Safar said, "there's nothing you can do. But he and I will need every scrap of your strength to face the coming day."

Then he pushed Palimak gently away. He waved blindly to Coralean, Biner, Arlain and the others. And gave them a crooked smile.

"I won't say goodbye, dear friends," he said. "Because I'll be close to you until the end. I only ask that you trust me. And you must trust Iraj as well."

Everyone was weeping, but they all murmured that they would do as he said.

Then Safar opened the gates to Iraj, who once again assumed control. Iraj/Safar blinked his eyes as sight returned and light flooded in.

"Now it's my turn to address you all," Iraj said in his own voice. A voice that made them all shiver. "And the first thing I have to say is this:

"In the morning we'll have not one, but two battles to fight!"