Chapter Fifteen
I stared at the letter a little while longer before I rolled it back up into a cylinder. It looked like I would be meeting the ruler of the Zaborial Isles before the day was through. I couldn’t say I was entirely excited to talk politics during my mission to find the magical secrets of dragon smithing and fast traveling, but I had a feeling I’d have to go through the High Priest if I wanted to use the library, anyway.
“Thank you,” I told the innkeep with a polite bow of my head. “I actually came down in search of some breakfast. Is that something you can assist me with?”
The old man tilted his head to the side and listened to my words carefully, but then he shook his head in confusion. “Zuzu?”
“No.” I shook my head, and I repeated my words a little slower in hopes that would aid his understanding, but he still gave me the same look of confusion as he had before.
“I’ll have some food ready for you soon, Bash of Sorreyal,” the old woman said as she hurried into the room, and sweat already dappled her forehead beneath the green-colored locks. “My husband isn’t the most skilled with your tongue. Please, take no offense.”
“No worries.” I smiled at the green-haired innkeeper. “I don’t mean to be a bother.”
“It is no large task,” the old woman assured me with a wave of her hand. “You are our only customer.”
“Slow season?” I peered around at the empty common room.
“I do not understand it.” The innkeeper sighed as she wrung her hands on her apron. “Several of my regulars were absent the past few days. I’m beginning to worry.”
“Is that not normal?” I asked.
“Many apologies, Bash of Sorreyal.” The innkeeper’s face flashed with fear for an instant, and she dipped into a curtsey. “I should not have expressed so much.”
“It’s okay.” I gave the scared woman an encouraging smile. “I’m sure your patrons are fine. Maybe they are just busy? I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about, but I can look into it if you want?”
“Your concern is comforting,” the old woman said as she straightened to her full height. “But that is unnecessary.”
“It’s nothing.” A giggle echoed down the stairs, and my eyes flicked to the ceiling. “Thank you for providing us with breakfast, but I should get back to my women.”
The elder woman merely inclined her head and headed back to the kitchen behind the curtain.
I trotted back up the stairs with the letter from the High Priest clutched in my hands, and the women both looked straight at it when I entered the bed chamber.
“My presence has been requested,” I explained, and I handed the note to Evangeline.
My wife and my lover read the letter quickly, and they raised their eyebrows in surprise. I could see my wife’s eyes narrow as she read it a second time, but then her gaze lifted to mine.
“He kind of demands it,” Evangeline pointed out with a wry smirk.
“There isn’t a lot of asking, is there?” Caelia asked.
“I had the same thought.” I frowned. “He doesn’t seem to realize who I am just yet.”
“Well, let’s have breakfast and explore the city before you answer his summons,” my wife suggested. “He’ll figure it out with the waiting.”
“I like the way you think,” I chuckled, and my frown slid from my face. “I’d like to get some of those flowy robes everyone is wearing. It seems like it helps against the heat.”
“I’m sure Zuana would be happy to point us in the direction of a tailor,” Caelia said as she pushed herself off the mattress and began to stretch her arms. “She has been nothing but friendly and helpful.”
“Very friendly and helpful.” Eva smirked, left the bed, and crossed the room to where we’d piled our packs, and the blonde bombshell waggled her naked ass at me as she bent to riffle through the bags for clean clothes.
“The innkeeper is making us some food,” I informed my women. “Hurry and get dressed, so we can eat.”
“I’m trying,” Eva giggled, but she continued to wiggle her ass at me, and I couldn’t resist the urge to plant a sharp spank against her behind. She squealed with delight, but her fingers moved at a quicker pace through the packs all the same.
“You’d think a god could go a couple of hours without thinking about his stomach,” Caelia teased as she stepped into my arms.
I bent down to brush my lips across hers, and a quiet moan slipped from her mouth.
“Bash is still very much so a man,” Eva pointed out as her smoky-gray gaze flicked hungrily to my crotch.
“You bring out the man in me,” I said with a devilish smirk.
A short while later, the three of us were dressed in clean clothes and downstairs eating breakfast. The food was interesting island fare with a boiled grain cereal, a bread made from chunky bits of fruit, bananas, pineapples, and coconuts, as well as some grilled strips of wild boar. I felt like I was at a luau in Hawaii, and I suddenly wished there were dancing girls in grass skirts present.
“Do you think you’ll find what you need at the library right away?” Eva asked.
“Well, I’m going to go the polite route and request permission to go over the stores of information when I speak to the High Priest.” I shoveled another mouthful of fruit into my mouth, and I washed it down with a juice that was as sweet as honey, but not nearly as sticky. “I’ve heard the Zaborians are easy to offend, and the last thing I want is to sever any trade connections Sorreyal has with the islands.”
“A wise call, Bash,” Caelia observed. “We get salt, exotic fruits, and the wonderfully made fabrics from the Zaborial Isles. While it might not seem like a lot, those items are rarer in Sorreyal, so they are used to barter for more expensive goods.”
“I get that.” I bobbed my head, grabbed another bite of deliciousness, and flashed her a wide-toothed grin. “We should definitely buy enough to stock your store for a long time.”
“You don’t have to do that.” Caelia’s chocolate eyes widened as her cheeks reddened, and the combination demanded a kiss.
“I know.” I placed a kiss delicately on her juicy lips, and I tweaked her nose affectionately. “I don’t have to do anything. I’m the God of Time.”
My heart swelled as I pictured her taut belly, and I flashed her a loving smile. To have Caelia and Eva both possibly pregnant was a double blessing, but I was eager to verify the news.
After breakfast, the three of us went out to explore the city of Nanau. We saw a few people in the streets, but most of those avoided our eyes. Not all the Zaborians were as friendly as Zuana, and I wondered briefly how I could free them from their obvious misery.
We stopped in at the Crowded Duck to get directions to a tailor, and we strode out of the shop wearing the light-weight white tunics of the locals. I still had my panabas and my enchanted daggers strapped to my waistband, though, since I wasn’t entirely certain we were out of harm’s way on these foreign shores.
The three of us shared a quick lunch of some flat fried bread, honey, fruit, and more of the wild boar, and then I said goodbye to my women and headed to the top of the city. Vendors and merchants hawked their wares as I made my way through the business district, and everywhere I went baskets full of fruit, colorful woven tapestries, and meat on sticks were shoved into my face.
Then I entered the tradesman district, and the ringing of hammers on anvils piqued my curiosity, but I didn’t have time to explore the armorer’s shops.
The High Priest waited for me at the top of the mountain.
The streets turned into stairs shortly past the tradesman district, and my calves burned after only a few moments of climbing the steep incline. The green-haired people wandering the passageways grew fewer and farther in between, and then I started to spot some men with shaved heads wearing rich turquoise robes. The color of their clothes highlighted the blue tint to their skin, and it reminded me of the stereotypical depiction of aliens from my old world. Commoners fell to their knees before the bald men, but the blue-robed priests paid them little attention.
I avoided the priests as much as I could, but as I drew closer to the library at the summit of the mountain, their numbers on the steps grew numerous. We were all headed in the same direction, though, so I couldn’t exactly take a different road. The bald men gave me a wide berth, and they eyed me with haughty expressions from the corner of their eyes.
Soon, they’d all recognize the face of the God of Time.
As the Grand Occulta Athenaeum grew steadily closer, I scanned over the building and the surrounding gardens, and I had to admit, it was beautiful. Golden-painted columns supported the massive stone awning of the circular building, and the colorful glass-domed ceiling cast prisms of brilliant light upon the white surfaces of the other buildings.
The priests eyed me even more curiously as I continued toward the library, but none of them moved to deny me entry. Their sandaled feet slapped against the cool stones beneath the awning, and they scurried through the open doors in a wave of blue.
Directly inside was a massive counter carved out of a single darkly stained tree trunk, and another one of the turquoise-robed priests sat behind it. He eyed the passing men with a casual air, and he stroked a long, braided green beard almost absently.
I cleared my throat as I approached what was obviously a receptionist of sorts.
“I’m here to see the High Priest,” I stated simply in my own language.
The priest blinked at me for several moments, and I thought maybe he didn’t speak the dialect of Sorreyal, but I would have expected educated men to have the same level of knowledge as a local innkeeper.
“Everyone here would kill for a chance to speak to the High Priest,” the man hissed in a heavily-accented tongue as he narrowed his green eyes at me. The effect reminded me of a cat, and I resisted the urge to flick him on his nose. “Begone, sailor. Seek your thrills elsewhere!”
I said nothing, but I thrust the roll of parchment with the summons from the High Priest written on it into his hands. The priest scanned it over, and his eyes widened to an impossible degree.
“You’re the god terrorizing our islands?” he questioned with an even more hostile tone, if that was even possible.
“What? No.” I frowned. “I just got here, and I haven’t even had a chance to do any terrorizing. Maybe tomorrow.”
“Well!” the priest scoffed, but I could tell he’d understood the sarcasm in my voice.
Another priest approached, and the man in front of me flinched ever so slightly when he spotted his comrade’s arrival.
“Is Bertram able to help you?” the new man asked.
It was hard to tell them apart, but the newcomer had fuzzy green eyebrows flecked with white hairs to denote his age, and wrinkles lined his forehead.
Bertram handed the High Priest’s summons to the newcomer, whose eyes also widened before searching my face for any sign of insincerity.
“Right this way,” the newcomer insisted, and he gestured down a long hallway lined with doors to the left of the front desk.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t catch your name.”
“Evenar,” the man said simply before turning away and striding down the hallway.
I considered resetting to the save point I’d created before leaving the Crowded Duck, but I still had much to learn about the Zaborian priests, so I let time continue onward.
I followed the older man down the corridor to the door at the very end, but this merely led to a staircase. At the top was another hallway, and we walked back toward the center of the building. We passed through an open archway, and my breath caught in my throat.
The stained-glass-domed ceiling was directly above us, and the sunlight danced across the surface, so the pictures were brought to life before my eyes. The older priest cleared his throat, and I tore my gaze from the ceiling to see him headed away from me at a brisk pace, so I hurried my steps to match his pace.
Evenar led me to another desk, but behind this one was a beautiful young woman. Her head was also shaved, but her skin was paler than the other Zaborians I’d seen. Her eyes were a deep sapphire, and her lips were a thin white line as she stared at a scroll stretched across the desk in front of her.
When I got closer, I realized she was looking at a map, and I craned my neck in an effort to make out any of the details, but she snapped it closed as soon as she noticed our appearance before her.
“Zenda, the God of Time is here to see your father.” Evenar bowed stiffly from the waist toward the High Priest’s daughter, but she didn’t even glance at him.
Zenda’s gemstone eyes locked onto me with an intensity I wasn’t expecting, but I managed to flash her a friendly smile. She quickly schooled her expression, and she pulled on a mask of indifference within my next breath.
“God of Time or no, my father is a very busy man,” Zenda said. “You shall wait here for him, and I will alert him to your presence.”
I was quickly losing my patience with being treated with such a callous nature, but I reminded myself I would receive a different reaction during my next run through.
I bowed my head slightly, and the High Priest’s daughter pushed away from the desk. The blue-skinned woman disappeared behind humongous carved doors standing behind her desk, but Evenar cleared his throat to get my attention, so I turned back to the older man with a smile.
“I will leave you in the very capable hands of the First Daughter.” The older man bowed stiffly once more, and then he turned to leave without another word.
I occupied myself by staring up at the beautiful artwork decorating the ceiling, and it appeared as though the stained-glass mosaics were telling a history of the Zaborial Isles. Blue-colored men fought against monsters pouring out of ships, but a brilliant oval of bright blue shone over the battlefield like a beacon of hope.
There were no words accompanying the images, so I could only speculate, but I assumed the bright blue oval shape symbolized the High Priest. I knew the priests were all mages, and I itched to learn more of their spells. I’d have plenty of time to acquire new knowledge while on the island, though, so I took a deep breath to calm my rapidly beating heart.
Zenda returned a moment later, and her gaze followed mine to the ceiling as a smile of pride stretched her thin lips.
“It’s beautiful, is it not?” She spoke the language of Sorreyal with near perfection, but every other word was accented with a wet plop sound like a rock hitting a pond’s surface.
“It is,” I agreed easily. “What is it about?”
“The Last Strife,” Zenda informed me, and her sapphire eyes burned with a passion for history as she began to explain each panel’s story. “Zyne, the first High Priest, sent the armies of the sea back to the ocean demons that spawned them. He led our priests to victory, and then he ushered in an Age of Peace.”
The daughter of the High Priest continued to explain the history of her land, and I hardly noticed the sun inching across the sky through the window panes. I enjoyed myself immensely, but then I noticed how much time had passed, and my stomach growled.
It was almost mid-day.
I opened my mouth to voice a complaint to Zenda, but then the wooden doors behind her desk creaked open, and the words died on my lips.
“Zyn muzin vi, Zenda,” a deep baritone voice rumbled.
“What did he say?” I asked the daughter of the High Priest.
“You may enter now,” she translated, and she beckoned me toward the entrance.
I took my time crossing the distance to the doors, and Zenda gestured for me to increase my pace, but I merely smiled back at her. Then I entered the office of the High Priest, and I paused just inside the threshold to look around.
It was a large, circular room with bookshelves built into the walls, except for the far side of the room, where a large window illuminated a darkly stained wooden desk. Conch shells and driftwood decorated any space not occupied with books, and several priests sat at smaller desks on the right side of the room, but it looked like they were copying the texts from yellowed scrolls onto fresh parchment.
An ancient-looking man rose to his feet from behind the desk, and he was the first person I’d seen at the library with any hair. His long green locks were braided in a plethora of small plaits, but both his head and beard were dappled with silver. Intelligent sky-blue eyes peered at me from across the room, and then wrinkles split his face as he smiled.
“The God of Time, at last.” The High Priest’s voice was heavily-accented, but he gestured to a cushioned chair situated before his desk. “Please, have a seat. Zenda, close the doors on your way out.”
“Zi,” Zenda murmured with a low bow as she backed out of the room, and she pulled the heavy wooden doors shut behind her.
I did as he requested, but I flicked a questioning glance toward the scribes busying themselves to our right.
“Would you prefer complete privacy?” The High Priest arched one eyebrow as he settled back into his seat.
“I don’t mean to interrupt you while you’re working,” I said with only a touch of sarcasm. “I received your letter.”
“Good. Good.” High Priest Zeydon nodded absently as he shuffled some papers around on his desk, and I wasn’t sure he had even heard me. “Now, down to business. I’m glad you’ve decided to visit us over in the Zaborial Isles. Word of your magical skills has traveled across the ocean to grace my ears. It is said you know some spells known only to our priests.”
“I pick up things quickly,” I said. “They were part of the presentation of magic at the summit of nobility in Vallenwood, were they not?”
“True, we haven’t been exactly trying to keep our spells a secret,” the High Priest replied. “But it is unusual for an outsider to have any aptitude for it. It usually takes a lifetime to master the art of Zaborian spellwork.”
“I spent a few lives in the process of picking it up.” I waved a dismissive hand. “But you didn’t summon me from my bed to discuss tales told by your priests. Why did you call me here?”
“It’s not every day a god is on our shores,” High Priest Zeydon said with a twinkle in his sky-blue eyes. “Although, it has happened twice now.”
Now, I was interested.
“What do you mean, twice?” I arched one eyebrow.
“You are not the only god in the Zaborial Isles,” the High Priest said in an ominous tone, and one of his scribes inhaled sharply. Zeydon’s eyes flicked to the eavesdropper, and a frown of disapproval creased his brow. “Shall I give you a tour of the library while we continue to discuss?”
“I’d like that.” I nodded.
High Priest Zeydon pushed up from his chair once more, and he waved his hand toward the entrance, so I followed behind him. I nodded to Zenda as we passed by her desk, and her sapphire eyes trailed after us until we turned down the hallway. He led me back down the stairs, but he took his time explaining what was behind each of the doors leading off the corridor.
Rooms full of artwork, another containing only maps, a chamber of sculptures and paintings, as well as rooms upon rooms full of nothing but books. I lost count of how many doors the High Priest opened, and my head swam as I tried to piece together a layout of the building. I’d have the floorplan memorized before I left for Sorreyal, though, I was certain of that. Bald priests in turquoise robes were busy everywhere we went, but a sad look crossed the face of the High Priest as he watched them work for a moment.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Our numbers have dwindled swiftly as of late,” Zeydon explained with a sad shake of his head. “So many brothers lost.”
“What happened?” I frowned. The priests were mages, so I didn’t know what would be strong enough to decimate their numbers, but it couldn’t be good.
“The god I mentioned who reached our shores not long ago,” the High Priest sighed. “He has claimed many lives.”
“Who is this guy, anyway?” I didn’t like the idea of there being another god around.
“Have you heard of the God of the Purge?” Zeydon arched a questioning eyebrow.
A knot twisted in my stomach. “Yes, I have.”
While I hadn’t met the God of the Purge myself, I’d encountered his High Priestess of the Purge, Sarosh, outside the village of Ivywood shortly after being summoned to this magical world, and her master was the God of the Purge. His followers were urged to sacrifice their own lives to gain entry to a utopian heaven, but from my eyes it just looked like brainwashing people into suicide. I’d managed to convince thirteen people to choose life instead, though, and I was proud of the ones who’d done well ever since.
“His influence has been growing stronger every day, and each morning, I find fewer and fewer priests present at the morning rituals.” Zeydon gave another sad shake of his head. “The rumors say they are dead, but every day I hold out hope they will return.”
“The God of the Purge urges his followers to commit suicide.” I gritted my teeth as anger flooded my gut. “What is he even doing here? How long has he been on the island?”
“I have heard whispers of burial grounds being raided, and magic artifacts and talismans going missing from their depths,” Zeydon said. “He is gathering power.”
“We can stop him, you know,” I said with steely resolve. “End his reign of terror once and for all.”
“Are you proposing the death of a god?” Zeydon continued slowly down the corridor, and he flashed me a pointed look. “That is a task fit only for another god.”
“You want me to do it?” I laughed.
“If you believe you are even capable of such a task.” The High Priest shrugged. “As with the God of the Purge, tales about the God of Time have reached my ears, but it is difficult to discern fact from fiction.”
“I’m sure someone as well-read as you would have no problem with that,” I countered. “I don’t feel like I need to prove anything to you. You requested my presence for a reason, and beating around the bush isn’t helping either one of us.”
“You seek the use of the Athenaeum?” Zeydon asked suddenly.
“I seek a particular knowledge, yes,” I allowed.
“What boon can I grant you, God of Time, that you do not already know?” The High Priest fixed me with a scrutinizing glance as he paused his advance down the hallway. “It is said you already know all.”
“There is knowledge even gods must seek out,” I replied in a vague tone.
I wasn’t about to give anything away without getting something out of the High Priest first, but he’d already opened up to me about his current struggles, and I was inclined to help him just to get rid of the God of the Purge.
“I shall offer you a deal.” High Priest Zeydon clasped his hands in front of his rich turquoise robe. “Remove the threat of the God of the Purge, and you shall have free reign of the library.”
“Before I agree,” I said. “I’ll need to know I will indeed be able to find the knowledge I seek.”
“You will first have to tell me what it is you are looking for,” Zeydon pointed out in a calm tone.
I sighed and raked a hand through my hair. “I’m looking for the secrets to dragon smithing, but I would love to find a way to travel from one place to another with magic.”
The High Priest’s eyebrows rose dramatically, but then he narrowed his eyes at me as though trying to decide if he should answer.
“You wish to learn the secrets permitted only to the High Priest,” he said at long last. “This is a vast request.”
“So is killing a god.” I folded my arms across my chest. “What can you tell me about this travel spell? Does it even exist?”
“Meet me in my office.” High Priest Zeydon glared at me, and I could tell he wasn’t used to people questioning his power, but he’d have to get accustomed to it with me around. Then he began to wave his arms in a slow circle, and blue light began to emerge from his limbs and fingers. I tried to memorize the intricate motions of his hands, but he moved so fast, it was hard to track.
Before my very eyes, the High Priest suddenly dematerialized.
I blinked at the empty spot where he’d stood only an instant prior, but my heart began to hammer out a staccato beat against my rib cage.
The High Priest had just fucking fast traveled.
I turned and ran toward the stairs at the end of the hallway that led up to the upper level of the library, and I skidded across the smooth stones of the floor as I bounded toward the High Priest’s office.
By the time I arrived, Zeydon was sitting serenely behind his desk, and he had the audacity to smirk at me as I entered the room.
“I need to know more about this fast travel spell you just used,” I said without preamble.
“What do you wish to know?” The High Priest arched an eyebrow.
“You’re the only one who can use it?” I questioned. “Can you take anything with you?”
“Whatever, or whoever, I touch while activating the spell travels with me,” Zeydon explained. “But if you drop the connection before the spell is completed, then there will be deadly consequences.”
It seemed as though I’d be able to bring along two companions, then, one for each hand.
“What powers it?” I pressed.
“This.” The High Priest pulled a necklace from inside his robe, and the deep sapphire gemstone at its center seemed to swallow all the light.
“The only one of its kind?” I asked, and Zeydon nodded.
“A tool passed down from High Priest to High Priest,” the old Zaborian said.
“I’ll kill the God of the Purge if you teach me that spell and let me use the library,” I declared, and excitement bloomed in my gut.
“I expected nothing less,” Zeydon replied with an incline of his head. “Bring me proof of the god’s demise, and I will teach you the secrets of zinho, the ancient art of traveling without a body.”
“Deal,” I said as I stuck out my hand to shake.
The High Priest’s eyes were bright with excitement as he accepted the proffered palm, and his grip was firm, even if his fingers were soft from his sedentary lifestyle.
“If there’s any assistance I can offer while you complete this task,” Zeydon said. “Do not hesitate to bring it to my attention.”
“I’ll let you know.” I nodded, but then I turned to leave.
“It was a pleasure to meet you, Great One,” Zeydon said to my retreating back. “I look forward to your successful return.”
I paused my departure, and I flashed the High Priest a cocky grin over my shoulder.
“Meeting you wasn’t such a pain in the ass, either.” I smirked.
I was lost in thought as I made my way back down the stairs to the main floor, and I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going as my feet found their way to the front door.
Soon, I’d be able to travel vast distances in the blink of an eye. I could travel the world, pop back to Bastianville to spend time with my family, and then get back to my quest before you could say “fast travel.”
I couldn’t wait to get back to the inn to tell my women everything I’d learned that day. My thoughts were racing, but I couldn’t help feeling excited for what was to come.
All I had to do was kill a god.
No big deal.
The open entrance still welcomed priests, and they split into all directions as they passed through the archway. I had to fight against the crowd to make my way to the door, but then a hand reached out to catch my arm.
“Bash?” a familiar, melodic voice gasped. “Could that really be you?”
I turned around and sucked in my breath.
Standing among the flow of turquoise-robed bald priests was the silver-haired, pointy-eared High Priestess of the Purge herself. She wore a richly-colored magenta robe that put her in sharp contrast to the hues of blue around us, and her gray eyes danced across my face like she couldn’t believe I was really there.
It was Sarosh.