49

Unable to stifle a yawn, Danjin covered his mouth. He hadn’t slept well despite Ella’s orders. Frustratingly, when the horn blew to rouse the army, his relief that the night was over had relaxed him just enough to fall asleep. By the time he woke again and reached Ella’s tent, she had left. A servant told Danjin where she would be. That news had shaken off all lingering sleepiness.

She had gone to join the White at the Isthmus.

Leaving the tent, he had jogged to the start of the Isthmus. There he found, to his relief, that the White hadn’t yet left. Ella smiled when she saw him, then beckoned.

“I didn’t want to wake you,” she told him. “You needed a rest after last night.”

“Hmph,” he replied. “I know the truth. You were trying to sneak away without me.”

She grinned. “Ha! You are too smart for me.” Then she sobered. “Are you sure you want to come? We are taking only a small group of witnesses with us. There are powerfully Gifted priests and priestesses among them, and Dreamweavers, but they may not be able to protect you if the Voices attack at full strength.”

Danjin felt a stab of apprehension. He shrugged it off.

“War isn’t without risks, and you may need me.”

He didn’t say why. There was a small chance that, if Auraya had joined the enemy, his presence might make her change her mind. It was a very small chance, but it was worth being ready for.

Ella nodded. “We might.” Her gaze shifted behind him. “And here are our Dreamweavers. I doubt they have a reason for sleeping late as good as yours.”

Danjin turned to see several men and women in Dreamweaver vests approaching. He recognized Dreamweaver Elder Arleej and Dreamweaver Adviser Raeli. The pair left the rest and approached Juran. When their short exchange ended, Ella smiled.

“Time for us to meet our adversaries,” she said. “Be careful, Danjin.”

“I will,” he assured her.

As she joined the White he moved to stand beside Lanren Songmaker. The military adviser smiled grimly, then they both started walking as the White set out along the Isthmus.

All were silent. Danjin alternately watched the white figures before him, their circs swaying as they walked, and squinted at the road beyond them, trying to see the enemy. Time dragged by. The sun rose higher, its rays delivering a heat that promised a hot day ahead. Water lapped at the sides of the isthmus in a gentle but relentless rhythm.

They must have been walking for over an hour when Lanren made a small noise of satisfaction. “Here they come.”

Danjin stared into the distance, but saw nothing. Perhaps there were dark specks in the haze ahead.

“You have good eyesight, Lanren.”

The man shrugged.

Several more minutes passed before points of darkness in the distance became moving shapes. By the time these had resolved into figures Danjin was sure he had been walking for another hour.

Slowly more details became clear. There were six figures. Five wore black. The other almost blended with the color of the road.

Mirar, Danjin thought. He drew up memories of the man he had spoken to the previous night and felt a mingled sympathy and annoyance.

I wish Auraya had killed him. I understand why she didn’t, but if she’d been a little tougher the odds today wouldn’t be balanced against us.

Soon Danjin could make out which of the Voices was male and which female. He recognized four of them, but he was more interested in the one he didn’t know. Nekaun, the new First Voice, was handsome in an exotic way. His bearing was arrogant. He was smiling as he strode toward the White.

When Danjin looked beyond at the small crowd of people that followed behind the Voices he felt a slight shock. A large, bald black-skinned man strode among them. He looked too much like the sea people who had attacked Danjin to not be of the same race. Gold jewellery glittered in the light. As Danjin watched the man dipped a cloth into a large bowl carried by a servant walking beside him then splashed and wiped himself with it.

This must be the Elai king, Danjin thought. The White hadn’t brought the leaders of Somrey, Toren, Genria, Sennon or Si in case a magical fight began and they were unable to protect them. The Voices must be confident of their superior strength. But they have Mirar, so they do have an advantage.

Several strides from each other, the Voices and White slowed to a stop and regarded each other warily. From behind, Danjin heard a Dreamweaver speak quietly.

“Mirar is with the Voices. We can’t hang behind like this and combat the advantage he gives them.”

“We will join them if they begin fighting,” Arleej replied.

“It may be too late by then,” the woman insisted.

He turned to see who was speaking, but stopped as he realized Lanren was staring up at the sky.

“Is that what I think it is?” the man said.

Danjin turned back just in time to see something blue flash across the sky. It came toward them. It took on form. Female form. As he realized who this was he felt himself go weak as relief and joy swept through him.

Auraya.

She was free at last. She had come to help them. No longer did the Pentadrians have the advantage. Now the Circlians did, if Mirar hadn’t lied about not intending to fight and kill. Auraya would fight for the Circlians, and the gods.

The White had seen her now. The Voices followed their gaze and their leader’s smile vanished. Auraya swooped downward, the blue cloth of her dress rippling. As she drew closer he saw how thin and pale she was. Her clothing was not a dress, but a length of cloth wound about her wasted body.

He smiled to himself. From the looks on the faces of the Voices, her arrival wasn’t part of their plan.

Auraya stopped abruptly, hovering above the White and the Voices. She wore an expression he had never seen before.

One of fury and hatred.

Watching from far above, the knots in Auraya’s stomach tightened as the White and Voices moved closer together. She could see Mirar walking with the Voices. She could see Companions and Servants following a hundred paces behind their leaders. She could see advisers, priests, priestesses and Dreamweavers following.

Can I do what the other immortals want me to do? If they wanted to kill Huan, I would give them all the help they asked for. But Chaia…

What of Chaia? He had tried to kill her.

Yet he had been so good to her in the past.

I suppose that makes his betrayal all the worse. If I had taken his bait, I would have died not knowing that he had turned on me.

And the other gods? They had done nothing to her.

And nothing to help me, either. I’ve seen them shift their alliance from Chaia to Huan to suit their whims.

And the Pentadrian gods? She knew nothing of them. But they had sent their people to invade Northern Ithania. They had ordered Nekaun to break his vow and chain her up under the Sanctuary.

Then something occurred to her.

They must die too. If the Circlian gods die, Northern Ithania will be vulnerable. The Pentadrians will invade again. There will be so much bloodshed.

If all the gods were killed this day…there would be no reason for a battle. She could prevent many, many deaths.

Except the gods’, of course. But that seems just. For so long they led us to believe they could provide life after death when in truth they just told us lies so we would obey them. Maybe it’s time they faced the same fate.

But what would the world be like without gods? Would mortals descend into chaos and barbarism without their guidance? Without a priesthood to nurture and guide the Gifted, would sorcerers abuse their power?

And this war isn’t barbaric? This isn’t the gods abusing power?

Ahead, the White slowed. They were within a hundred paces of the Voices now. The two groups finally stopped a dozen paces away from each other.

Where are the gods? She felt a jolt as she realized she couldn’t sense them, and stretched her senses out. Suddenly she did detect something—the Circle. They were flashing between the White and Voices so fast she would not have noticed unless she was watching for it. Puzzled by this behavior, she descended to be closer, and concentrated harder. Though she could not read the minds of the White or the Voices, she could still hear the gods’ voices.

Snatches of conversation reached her.

:…we never agreed to this.

She recognized Huan.

:But we did. We knew there would be elements we could not control, Chaia replied.

:Small things. Weather or disease. Not these cursed interfering immortals. You’ve encouraged them—

:I have never encouraged any of them.

:You didn’t get rid of him! You told Auraya we don’t take souls!

:I did not.

:Will you stop arguing. This was Lore. The best part of the game is about to begin.

A game? Auraya shook her head. What game? And why are they in the minds of both sides? How can the gods even enter the minds of the Voices? Surely the Pentadrian gods would stop that. And where are the Pentadrian gods?

The answer dawned on her then. It was so obvious she felt like a fool for not seeing it before.

The Circlian gods are the Pentadrian gods.

The truth set her body trembling with rage. They had all been duped. The White, the Voices, all mortals, everywhere. Chaia wasn’t pretending to be Sheyr when he appeared in the hall. He is Sheyr.

The gods were still arguing. Still stunned by the revelation, Auraya had to drag her mind back to the gods’ conversation.

:…not interesting! Huan spat. It’s not a fair match.

:The Wilds are a random element. That is exciting, Lore disagreed.

:I’m with Huan, Yranna interjected. We agreed on certain rules from the beginning. If one side wins because of the Wilds it won’t be a proper contest.

A suspicion was dawning on Auraya. She resisted it. The possibility was too appalling.

:We can’t do anything about it now, Chaia said. Let’s just enjoy the battle.

Auraya’s heart froze.

Enjoy the battle.

If Chaia hadn’t tried to kill her, she would never have believed he could say something like that. But he had, and she had overheard him. He hadn’t realized she was close by and listening to him and his fellow gods. She could hear their argument continuing. The word “game” repeated over and over. Each time her resistance to the truth broke down a little more. She looked at the Voices and the White. White-clad men and women. Black-clad men and women. Game pieces. The board was the whole world.

All we are to them is pieces of a game.

She propelled herself downward, aiming for a place just above the Voices and the White and the gods that buzzed around them like carrion birds.

When Auraya had descended from the sky, blue cloth swirling about her, Mirar’s heart had stopped. For a moment he was full of doubt. She was going to join the White. She would betray the immortals.

Now they would face each other in battle. Unlike him, she was willing to kill.

Then she stopped and hovered above them. The White and the Voices stared up at her.

Someone gave him a small nudge. He turned to look at Second Voice Imenja. Her expression was grim.

“I guess our deal’s off,” she murmured. “Go, if you wish. I will ensure he doesn’t stop you.”

He looked around. All of the Voices and the White seemed transfixed by Auraya. Catching a movement beyond the White, Mirar saw that Emerahl was striding forward, followed by a puzzled Arleej. Looking to one side, he saw Tamun peering over the edge of the road. He glanced to the other side and saw Surim duck out of sight.

Everyone is in place but me.

He backed away from the Voices. Nekaun turned to glare at him, but Imenja stepped forward to stand between them. Mirar hurried away, then turned. He looked up at Auraya.

She met his gaze and nodded.

“Now!” she cried.

Mirar drew in magic faster than he had ever needed to before.

Reivan gasped as a glowing sphere of light surrounded the White and the Voices. It was blindingly bright, too painful to look upon.

“What’s going on?” someone shouted. She recognized the Elai king’s deep voice.

“They’re attacking each other!” a Servant exclaimed. “Attack the enemy!”

“How? We can’t see them!”

“And they can’t see us,” Reivan found herself saying. “All we can do is protect ourselves and wait.”

To her surprise, the men and women around her quietened. Heart pounding, she covered her eyes and mouthed a prayer to the gods that Imenja was alive and unhurt.

It surprised Emerahl how much magic she could draw and hold. There was a limit, however, and as she reached it she converted it to light. The others were doing the same, surrounding the Voices and the White with a great dazzling sphere.

Then, abruptly, the magic ran out and the glow vanished.

Emerahl found herself standing uncomfortably close to ten confused sorcerers. They were casting about, looking wary and uncertain. One of the Voices gave her a hard look.

Time to go, she told herself. But she didn’t move. We don’t know if it worked or not.

Then a glow began to form in the middle of the Isthmus. Emerahl felt her stomach sink to her knees as she recognized Chaia. He was not looking at her, but up at Auraya. Four more figures appeared.

Mouth dry and heart pounding, Emerahl took advantage of the distraction and walked to the edge of the road. Nobody moved to prevent her. They were all too stunned and confused. To her relief, Surim waited there in a narrow boat. She skidded down the steep side of the Isthmus and clambered aboard.

“Did it work?” he whispered.

She shook her head. “Chaia appeared. He’s still alive.”

“And trapped inside the void,” a new voice said quietly. She and Surim turned to see Tamun and The Gull emerge from a crack in the Isthmus wall, paddling in another narrow boat. “Remember, there is often magic left in the middle of a void. We have only created a shell of magicless space about them.”

“Trapped for all eternity,” Surim said. He shrugged, then smiled evilly. “Actually, I like that better.”

“I don’t,” Emerahl growled. “If they’re alive, there’s a chance they’ll last in there until the magic seeps back.”

“Then we’ll just have to sneak back and finish them off, when there are no White or Voices around to stop us,” Surim said, shrugging.

“They’ll expect that. They’ll make sure they’re well guarded.”

“By who? Without the gods enhancing their powers, the White and Voices won’t be as strong,” The Gull pointed out.

“They will be, inside the void,” Emerahl said.

“But the gods need that power to survive.”

“Where is Auraya?” The Gull peered up at the edge of the Isthmus wall.

Emerahl followed his gaze. “She was still floating over them when I left.”

“She has issues to resolve,” Tamun said. “And she can fly away when she’s done. We can’t. We should go.”

“What about Mirar?”

Tamun frowned up at the wall. “He’s probably stayed because Auraya did.”

They stared up at the wall in silence. Emerahl sighed.

“I’ll wait,” she offered. “You three get out of here.”