An Unexpected Deity (Book 7) (33 page)

Kestrel laughed in delight, then stepped out of the cave, into a dappled glen, over which trees along the banks of the depression held branches that arched completely across the sky, blocking any view of the color overhead.  Kestrel went to one of the smooth-skinned trees, climbed up into its branches, then stopped.  He removed his weaponry and stuffed them into a fork in the tree trunk.  With more flexibility and less weight, he ran out onto a branch, and leaped up onto the higher branches of a neighboring tree.  Within two minutes he managed to fulfill his dream, as he pulled aside the tender, green slender branches in the crown of a tree and was able to look up at a blue sky and a yellow sun.

It seemed to bear an uncanny resemblance to the land of the Inner Seas, he thought.  Perhaps Tullamore was wrong, and the portal had deposited him directly back into his own land.  The tree he was in had strange leaves, a shape and a pattern he didn’t recognize, but perhaps there were species of trees he did not know, he told himself.

The sun was low in the sky, whether rising or setting, Kestrel did not know.  With a last breath of the blowing air above the trees, he began to climb down, back to where his supplies were stashed.

And then he realized he didn’t know what to do next.

Chapter 21

Kestrel pondered what he could do to find direction in a strange, unknown land.  He could pray to the local god, although not knowing the name of the god seemed to make that unreliable.  He could not imagine that it would be effective though, for what god would hear a prayer that did not contain the god’s name?

He could simply begin to walk out of the vicinity of the portal.   He would be likely to meet a native of the land sooner or later that way.  But the encounter might not turn out to be productive.  He imagined what would happen if an elf walked into parts of Graylee or Hydrotaz even now, when peace nominally reigned between the two races.  An encounter with an alien could certainly result in hostilities. 

Kestrel presumed he still had his own inherent powers, though he did not know for sure.  If so, he would be able to protect himself from attack; if not, he faced likely problems.  To satisfy himself that his powers were still intact, he sat on the tree branch where his weapons were stashed, and called upon the energy that he had come to think of as an integral part of his identity.  The energy flowed, and a blue shield glowed into existence beside him.

It felt natural and it existed with an easy familiarity.  After his extraordinary experiences among the Skyes, the simple use of his own powers was nothing out of the ordinary.  He had met his father, and been reconciled to the nature of their relationship, making him feel easier about his powers; and he had briefly exercised the greater powers of divinity, making him feel less intimidated by the level of power that he naturally held.  He had come to consider the energy a natural birthright, he realized.

And after his experiences with the power that Ashcrayss had delivered to him, Kestrel felt a greater sense of potential creativity that could be exercised.  He could do more things with his own power, he realized.  It was not strong, but it could be manipulated, it could be focused, it could be made productive in ways he had never thought of; Krusima had shown him that.  He smiled at the thought of doing more with his energy, and then he released the hold he possessed, and his blue shield ceased to glow as it winked out of existence.

“God of this land,” he suddenly did begin to pray anonymously to an unknown deity.   Just minutes earlier he had told himself it made no sense, but now he saw no harm in trying either.  It would cost him nothing.

“God, lord, I am a visitor, a traveler, passing through your land.  I mean no harm, and will try to do no harm.  I seek a way to go among the portals to find my own world.  I pray to you for help and guidance and forbearance.  Will you help me please?”

It was a short prayer, not a flowery one, but it made his point, and did so in a humble way.  He hoped that a god would hear, and would be impressed with the message.

Not long after he expressed his prayerful call for help, he received a reply.  When no immediate answer sounded, Kestrel had gathered up his belongings, then lightly hopped down from branch to branch, to land on the ground at the top of the bank that bordered the portal cave and its gully.  He arranged his belongings, picked a direction at random, and started walking.

That’s the wrong way
, a tiny voice said to him.

He stopped and looked around.  “Who said that?” he asked out loud.

“Me,” the small voice replied, from someplace nearby.

Kestrel made a complete circle, as his eyes attempted to pierce every shadow and look behind every bush and tree trunk.

“I’m down here,” the voice explained itself.

On the ground, perhaps fifteen feet away, sat a small animal, something that was a cross between a squirrel and turtle.  The creature’s large green eyes stared at him solemnly.

“I understand you,” Kestrel said out loud.

“And I understand you too.  It’s quite an accomplishment, isn’t it?” the creature mockingly asked.

“How do we understand each other?  Are we in the land of the Inner Seas?  Are you speaking human or elvish or gnomish?” Kestrel asked in bewilderment.  “What are you?”

The creature’s eyes narrowed.  “I’m the one who lives here.  Perhaps good manners suggest you should explain yourself, as the intruder.”

Kestrel looked at the creature in exasperation, then bit his tongue.

“I just arrived through a portal from another world.  I’m lost, and I’ve trying to find a different portal that will take me back to my own world,” he said in a waspish tone.

“You came through the portal in the cave down there?” the creature nodded its head toward the very gully that Kestrel had come through.  “Is the land still under the blue sun?”

“Yes, it is,” Kestrel faltered slightly.  The creature was aware of what he was talking about, to his surprise.

“So you’re just passing through here?  Why not use another portal from that land?  It has several, I believe.  We only have three, well, two and a fraction, really,” the creature was astonishing well informed.

“I just came through this one, and I want to go to the land of the Inner Seas,” Kestrel explained.  The creature might be a good source of information after all.

The creature looked at him with eyes wide open once again.

“You are the traveler Decimindion spoke of,” the creature virtually purred the words.

Kestrel’s eye widened instantly.  “Decimindion?  God of the Parstoles?” he asked.  “Is this his land?”

“No, it’s my land,” the creature said sharply.  “He is only one of the gods here – not the only god.”

“He is the city god,” Kestrel recollected.  “He told me.  The god of the farmers was killed by the Viathins, and the god of the wilderness, was weakened.  Is that you?” he asked the small creature.

“So he did mention me, did he?  How nice of mighty Decimindion,” the animal said.  “But I don’t match up to your vision of what a goddess should be?  Should I look like this?” suddenly the small animal was gone, and in its place stood a female Parstole, with a creamy red skin color, small horns that were barely nubs on her forehead, and a voluptuous figure barely covered by a few strategically strewn tree leaves.  She had a long, long tail that she whisked back and forth with a hypnotic rhythm.

“This is what you want to see, creature from beyond?  Your name is Kestrel, is it not?  You brought back many of the Parstoles that had been carried away as slaves, did you not?” the reshaped goddess took a step towards Kestrel, and he instinctively stepped back away from her advance.

She laughed, and shrunk back to her small creature form.  “This is not so intimidating, is it?” she asked.

“No, it’s not,” Kestrel agreed as he swallowed hard.

“And you are who I think you are?” she asked.

“I am, my lady.  And what is your name?  How shall I address you?” he asked.

“You may call me Medeina, goddess of the wilderness,” she answered.   “What do you think of the wilderness?  Let me examine your heart,” she said calmly.  She reverted to the Parstole form and stepped towards him, then lashed her long tail towards him and curled it around his wrist in a firm, unshakeable grip.

He felt her powers penetrate him and examine him, sorting through his feelings and his memories.

“How extraordinary!” she exclaimed as he felt the examination end.  It had not been painful, but it had been intrusive.  Her tail still held his wrist tightly, and she stepped closer yet to him.

“Your soul has been written upon as though it were a floodway next to a might river, covered with new layers every time the waters rise.  I feel as though I could dig down through the layers that cover your soul and see the hints of a tale more extraordinary than any ever told before,” Medeina told Kestrel.  “You are unique.” She walked around behind him, holding him in place, and circled around to the other side of him.

“I’ve been through the other portal of your world, the one that leads to the world of the Albanuns.  If I go through it, and then go through the Albanuns’ world, I can reach my home!”

As he said it, he realized it was true.  He knew now that he had a way to get home.  It would take him weeks, but it was a path he had to follow.  He started to cry, and then the goddess wrapped her arms around her, as her tail released his wrist and became a third appendage hugging him, giving him comfort.

“I told you that we have two and a half portals,” she said as she held him.  “You’ve just come through one.  The portal that goes to the Albanuns is far across our land; it would take you over a month to go there.  The third portal, the one that is closed, is only two days away from here.

“It is closed, but it goes directly to your world,” she startled Kestrel by saying.  “And I think you can open it up again.”

He pulled away from her, and looked into her bright red eyes.   As he did, she suddenly transformed back into the small animal, and he found that he was holding her in his arms.  Her wide-eyed look, sudden transformation, and news of the nearness of a portal made his sobs of joy suddenly evolve into laughter.

“You’re a goddess worth loving,” he said to the small animal.

“You might be a worshipper worth keeping; be careful,” the creature laughed.  “Now, turn around; we need to go in the opposite direction.”

And so Kestrel carried his guide for the remainder of the day.  At sunset she showed him which plants were edible, and told him to pick enough for the two of them, as she reverted to her Parstole form and sat with him in the darkness under the trees.  They ate and talked.

“So you were a god, truly divine with powers?” Medeina asked.  “And you gave them up?  You must be angry!”

“I did not give them up the way I expected to,” Kestrel said, remembering the painful ordeal with Tullamore and the Kovell.  “But I did not mind giving them up, in order to leave the land of the Skyes.  I want to return to my own people,” he added softly.  “I want to very much.”

“Ah, but which people?” the red goddess asked.  Kestrel was glad there was not a fire burning, for he imagined the disquiet he would feel if he saw her figure by the wavering illumination of the flames.  “I sense that you are of more than one race.”

“I no longer care,” Kestrel answered truthfully.  “I don’t think I have to adjust to them; it’s the soul of the person that matters, not their skin texture, or the shape of their ears.  They need to adjust to me, to learn to be open-minded.”

“Ah, how extraordinary your world must be for the gods,” Medeina sighed.  “So many races, so many gods, so much activity and worship and dynamics!  We have only one race and two gods here.  Would you like for me to come with you so that I could sample your world’s frivolities?” she asked slyly.

Kestrel was sure she was teasing him, but not completely sure.  “I do not want to take you away from your wilderness,” he answered.  “You seem to be getting stronger since the Viathins were expelled, and I know your wilderness must need you.  I found out how much a world needs a god,” he said, thinking of the chaos that had overtaken the Inner Seas kingdoms when the Viathins had weakened the native gods of the land.

“That’s a pretty speech, but not your real answer, as we both know.  I think you’re just afraid of being seen with me!  Don’t you think I am striking to look at?” she asked, as she raised her hands over her head and stretched her body.

“You are very striking,” Kestrel gulped.  And yet he thought about Lark, the slender human girl, with a physique that was so much more lean and muscular, and then he was surprised to realize that he had paid such attention to her physique when he had seen her and Wren in the temporary bath tub he had created for them, as his memory lingered over the features of the girl.

Medeina laughed at Kestrel, then reverted to her small animal shape.  “I will go inspect my wilderness now,” she told him.  “You go to sleep, and perhaps by this time tomorrow, we will send you back to your own world.”  And with that exciting tease, she waddled away out of his elven sight.

Kestrel slept soundly on the soft loamy soil of the forest, wrapped in his cloak.  He had gone through a long day of stressful travel, and it astonished him to realize that just the night before he had been in the battle with the Kovell, and Tullamore had drained away his divine powers, luring the mist out of his soul.

The next day he awoke to find the small creature sitting upon a rotting log, waiting for him to arise.  “Grab some of those for us to eat, and let’s get going,” Medeina commanded as she gestured at a bush with leafy foliage.  Together the two of them left the campsite, Kestrel carrying Medeina and following her directions as the two of them ate their breakfast.

The terrain was easily passable, with rolling hills and shallow valleys.  There were a few large streams in the land that still had not completely recovered from the assault of the Viathins, and Kestrel delighted Medeina by running atop the water in the largest of them.  As nightfall approached and the sky overhead began to turn red, the small creature left Kestrel’s arms to become the alluring female Parstole once again.  They stopped on the precipice of another stream bed, one with unusually steep and deep banks, and a bed that was mostly sandy soil and weeds.

“The stream here runs mostly underneath the surface, in caves,” Medeina explained.  “When we have rains, as we used to have, the stream would have an abundance of water, and it would come up to the surface and run here for a few days, then sink and disappear into its cave once again.