Rage of a Demon King (23 page)

“To understand the importance of that attempt, you must know something of the nature of the gods and their role in Midkemian life.”

Macros said, “Dominic, explain to Miranda and Nakor.”

Dominic spied a bench nearby and said, “I’ll sit, if you don’t mind.”

They followed him there. The old Abbot sat, Nakor and Miranda sat at his feet, and Pug and Macros remained standing. Dominic said, “At the time of the Chaos Wars, a new order came into existence on Midkemia. Before the Chaos Wars, a primal force of creation and one of destruction ruled hand in glove; these forces were worshipped by the Valheru as Rathar and Mythar, She Who Is Order, and He Who Is Chaos, the Two Blind Gods of the Beginning.

“But with their raiding across the heavens, the Valheru were an unintentional agent of change. For each realm they visited, each realm they connected with the one of their birth, they created ripples in the time stream and changes in how the universe was ordered.

“The Chaos Wars were an upheaval on a cosmic scale, as the universes sought to reorder themselves in a fashion more finely drawn, more clearly delineated than before, and as a result, the gods arose.”

Dominic looked from face to face. “Each world in the cosmos, each planet and star in the multitude of universes shares a common property, energies existing on a multitude of levels. Many of these worlds gave form to those energies as consciousness, while others formed what we call magic. Some have no life as we think of it, while others are teeming. In the end, each world sought out its own level.”

Nakor seemed riveted by this. “But they are all connected, right?”

Dominic said, “Ultimately, they are, and therein lies the heat of this matter.

“When the gods came into existence they ordered
themselves in ways we can only guess at; but as time passed they took on properties that clearly revealed their natures. For the most part, they were organic things, if energy or mind can be called organic, that is to say, without consciousness as we think of it.”

Macros nodded. “I know that for certain.”

Dominic continued. “Seven beings existed, who had ultimate responsibility for the ordering of Midkemia. They were given names by mankind, though what they think of themselves is beyond our ability to know. They were AbremSev, the Forger of Actions; Ev-Dem, the Worker from Within; Graff, the Weaver of Wishes; and Helbinor, the Abstainer.

“These are the four remaining Greater Gods,” said Dominic, “those who survived the Chaos Wars when the Lesser Gods rose and the Valheru last flew Midkemia’s sky.”

“What caused the Chaos Wars?” asked Nakor. “Why did the Lesser Gods rebel against the Greater Gods?”

“No one knows,” said Dominic. “Mankind was young on this world, having fled to Midkemia from other worlds as the Valheru raged across the multiverse.”

“The Mad God,” said Macros.

Nakor said, “Who is he?”

“The Unnamed,” supplied Pug. “And the reason we’re here.”

Miranda said, “You said seven greater beings existed, yet you named only four.”

Dominic nodded. “Originally, there were seven. Besides the four we call the Builders, there were three others. ArchIndar, the Selfless, the Goddess of Good, was she who drove every creative and positive
impulse on our world. We think she sacrificed herself to ultimately banish the Unnamed from Midkemia.”

Miranda said, “So who is Ishap?”

“He was the most powerful of all the Greater Gods,” said Dominic. “He was the Balancer, the Matrix, the one whose ultimate task was to keep the other gods in their places.”

“Who is this seventh god,” asked Miranda, “this Unnamed?”

Pug said, “Nalar.”

There was a momentary silence and Pug said, “That’s a relief.”

“What’s a relief?” asked Miranda.

Dominic said, “Nalar is unnamed, for even to say his name is to risk becoming his tool. He has been cast out by the other four Greater Gods, to keep something of a balance, while we labor to return Ishap to life.”

Miranda said, “So you’re praying every day, trying to return the Greatest of All the Gods to life?”

“Yes.”

Miranda said, “Have you anticipated how much longer you need to do this?”

“Centuries,” said Macros. “Millennia, even. Our lives are but passing moments in the age of the universe.”

Dominic said, “This is so. This is why we who worship Ishap are the self-appointed keepers of Knowledge. WodarHospur, the God of Knowledge, also died in the Chaos Wars, and knowledge serves us in attempting to return the order of the universe to what it needs be.”

Miranda said, “This is incredible.”

Pug said, “I know. It means that what I’ve been living through—the Riftwar, the Great Uprising, this constant attacking by the Pantathians, all of which is apparently some plot by the trapped Valheru to gain their freedom—all of it is simply a ruse.”

“By Nalar?” said Miranda.

“What would he gain by the destruction of the world?” said Nakor.

Dominic said, “You do not understand the nature of the gods. No man does. It is his nature to do that which man calls ‘evil.’ He is an agent of destruction much as Arch-Indar was an agent of creation. To destroy, tear down, and render all life to a basic form is as much a part of his nature as it was of Mythar, the ancient God of Chaos. But it is more, for while Mythar was mindless, Nalar has a mind, a consciousness. More to the point, a self-consciousness.

“While the other Controller Gods were alive, all was in balance. And his tendencies to destroy and cause evil were kept in check by a mind aware of its own purpose, and by the forces of Ishap and Arch-Indar, supported by the other four, the Builders.

“But during the Chaos Wars, Nalar went mad.”

Pug said, “Another name for the Chaos Wars is the Time of the Mad God’s Rage.”

“Or perhaps,” said Nakor, “it was his madness that caused the Chaos Wars.”

“We’ll never know,” said Dominic. Glancing around the circle of faces, he said, “Even so powerful a company as this is trivial compared to the might we’re discussing.”

“We are candles to their stars,” said Macros.

“But a lifeless world is no problem for a god who exists for eons,” said Dominic. “Life is persistent,
and eventually it would return to Midkemia, either arising in the lifeless soil and water of its own accord, or brought there from other worlds, and as it waited, the dead world of Midkemia would provide Nalar with an opportunity to escape his prison, for the other gods would be weakened. The Lesser Gods would probably die with the planet—they are agents who work between living beings and the Greater Gods—and the Greater Gods would be greatly reduced in strength.”

“Why didn’t the other gods simply destroy Nalar?” asked Miranda.

“They couldn’t,” said Dominic. “He was too powerful.” Miranda sat back on her heels. “Too powerful?”

“Yes,” answered Dominic. “The entropic nature of destruction, the forces used by Nalar, are the most powerful in the universe. Without Arch-Indar and Ishap, the Builders could not destroy him. They could shut him away. He is entombed under a mountain as large as the world of Midkemia, upon a planet the size of our sun, in a universe as distant from our own as can be imagined, yet he is still powerful enough to reach out and influence the minds of his servants.”

Pug spoke. “Those who serve him often have no idea on whose behalf they labor. They have need to do things, but no reason.”

Dominic said, “The other gods gave to my order the Tear of the Gods. It is why we have any power at all. All clerical magic is prayers answered, but with Ishap dead, we have no one to answer our prayers.”

“So every one hundred years, this mystic gem is born, in a cave high in the mountains,” said Pug, “and it is transported to Rillanon, where it is placed in the inner sanctum of the Temple of Ishap.”

Dominic said, “It is there so we may speak to the other gods, and so we may work magic and do good works, and cause men to come to the worship of Ishap so that someday he will return to us and restore the balance.”

“But until then,” said Macros, “we have a problem.” Miranda said, “That’s one way of putting it. Let me try another: the Valheru, the demons, the wars and destruction, all are tiny diversionary tactics by a Mad God who is so powerful that the other Greater Gods and Lesser Gods combined can’t destroy him, so it’s up to us to face him?”

Macros said, “Something like that.”

Miranda could only sit in stunned silence.

Miranda yawned.

After the initial shock of the enormity of the task before them wore off, boredom set in. Macros, Pug, and Dominic had resolved not to leave the Garden of the City Forever until a plan of some sort had been worked out.

They had spoken for hours, or at least Miranda had gotten hungry a couple of times, and had napped once. The only person who had seemed completely enthralled by the experience was Nakor.

The little man was sitting on a bench and seemed lost in thought when Miranda approached him with an armful of pears. “Want one?” she asked.

He grinned as he nodded and took one. “My orange trick still works, if you want one of those.”

“Thanks, maybe later.” Then she said, “But how does it still work?”

“I don’t know,” he said with a perplexed smile. “Maybe the stuff I’m moving around doesn’t care where I am.”

“But we’re nowhere.”

“No,” Nakor disagreed. “We’re somewhere, we just don’t have any idea of where.”

“Or a frame of reference,” she added.

“Yes, you do understand.”

“You seem impossibly cheerful for someone who has just been told he’s got to go fight a god.”

Nakor shook his head as pear juice ran down his chin.

“No, not yet. And I don’t think ever, maybe. We need to find a way to defeat his plans, not him. If four Greater Gods can’t destroy this one, then who are we? Besides, the plan is already in place, we just have to realize what it is.”

“I’m not sure I understand.”

He stood up and said, “Come along, I’ll explain.”

He led her to where Pug, Macros, and Dominic sat, under a large tree of alien foliage, and said, “How are you doing?”

Pug said, “We’ve restated the problem many times, but we seem without a hint of what to do next.”

“That’s easy,” said Nakor.

Macros’s eyebrows raised. “Oh, really? Care to share this insight with us?”

Nakor nodded and in a single motion sat cross-legged on the ground. “We have to fix what’s broken.”

Dominic said, “That is what the Order of Ishap has been doing.”

“I know,” said Nakor. “I mean all of it. Look, you’ve got to take some time to bring back the dead god. That’s not an easy thing to do.”

The old Abbot’s eyes narrowed. “Thank you for understanding,” he said dryly.

“But there’s a lot of mischief that’s gone on since this all began that we need to do something about
now!”
said Nakor.

“Such as?” asked Pug.

“Well, one thing,” answered Nakor, “we have those demons. We can’t have them running around. They cause much too much trouble. Even the little ones can be very dangerous.”

“I remember when Murmandamus’s magicians gated in some flying demons years ago, before the Great Uprising was crushed. That should have alerted me that something was amiss. I mistook it for a common spell of summoning,” admitted Pug.

“We can spend a lifetime in regrets,” said Macros, “if we let ourselves.” He looked at his daughter, who returned his scrutiny with a neutral expression.

“Yes,” said Nakor. “Regrets are foolish. Now, your other question. As for putting things right, that’s simple. We defeat the Emerald Queen, get this invading army turned around and headed home, kill all the Pantathians who are left alive—because we can’t change their nature—and make sure no one gets to the Lifestone. Oh, and chase all the demons back to their own realm.”

“Is that all?” Miranda said sarcastically, with mock wide-eyed wonder.

Dominic said, “Nakor, you pose very interesting questions, intriguing solutions, but little advice on how to go about reaching those solutions.”

“That’s easy,” said Nakor. “We have to go plug up the hole.”

“What hole?” asked Macros.

“The one the demons are coming through. That could be very nasty in a short while.”

Pug sighed. “He’s right. The Emerald Queen’s army is a catastrophe, but a major invasion of demons would make it look like a bunch of street roughs trying to roll a drunk.”

“But I think that might wait until we defeat the Emerald Queen,” said Nakor. “What we’ve seen of the demons indicates they haven’t fully reached into this realm yet, and while they’re influencing the Emerald Queen, she is the one who is here. For all we know, once she has the Lifestone, she may use it to bring the demons into our world.”

“What are we missing?” said Miranda.

“What do you mean?” asked Pug.

“I don’t know,” she said, concern clearly written on her face. “Somewhere in all of this is a missing piece, something to do with why we’re not swooping down on the invasion fleet as it reaches the deepest part of the ocean and sinking it.”

“There are a lot of Pantathian priests on those ships,” said Nakor. “They may not have Pug’s power, or Macros’s, or yours, but together—”

“Pug could destroy them in seconds,” Miranda interrupted. “I saw what he did in the Celestial City; I’m not a beginner. I’ve been studying magic for two centuries, and what he did is so far beyond my abilities it’s staggering.”

Macros nodded. “He forced himself into my mind . . . Sarig’s mind, and ripped me away like pulling a cork from a bottle. This was no trivial thing.”

Pug said, “It’s not that simple.”

“It
is
that simple,” said Miranda. “If we don’t act, a lot of people are going to die.”

“What if we’re wrong?” asked Pug. “What if we die in the attempt?”

“Life is risks,” answered Macros’s daughter, and for a brief second Pug saw the resemblance between father and daughter.

“If we perish,” said Pug, “then there is nothing to stop the Emerald Queen from taking the Lifestone.”

“There’s Tomas,” reminded Miranda.

Pug thought it over for a long time, then said, “First we must make sure that Tomas knows what we are going to do.”

“Agreed,” said Macros.

“Send Nakor and Dominic to Tomas,” said Macros.

“No!” said Nakor. “I want to see what you’re going to do.”

“Your curiosity is endless,” said Pug, “but we’re going to be facing something awesome by any standards.” As Nakor started to object, Pug raised his hand and cut him off. “You claim there is no magic, but you know more about the workings of magic than just about anyone else in Midkemia, save Macros, Miranda, and me.”

Nakor’s eyes narrowed. “I always wanted to ask you about that,” he said. “You told James to tell me ‘There is no magic’ a long time ago, to get me to go to Stardock, and I always wanted to know about that.”

Pug smiled. “I’ll tell you when this is all over.”

Nakor’s grin returned. “Very well, but we have a few problems to address before we return.”

“Yes,” said Dominic. “No one may return to Midkemia with the knowledge of Nalar or even a desire to discover that knowledge intact. While the God of Evil is locked away, Midkemia is his home, and he will attune his influence to anyone who is
receptive, much as Sarig took Macros to his service all those yeas ago.”

“Have you the means to remove the memory of Nalar, Dominic?” asked Pug. “We can put blocks on our own minds, not letting the knowledge surface, but it will still be there.”

Dominic nodded. “Among our order it is common to deal with just this sort of problem, as we cannot let anyone know the secret of Ishap and the other Controller Gods. If you do as I instruct, we will leave here ignorant of Nalar.” He turned to face Macros. “You trod perilously close to becoming Nalar’s tool, had you not been protected by the lingering magic of Sarig. Even though the God of Magic gave you that protection, it will not last.”

“I know,” said Macros, “but we had to understand what we faced.”

“Agreed,” said Dominic, “though the Father Prelate in Rillanon will find it difficult to accept my word.”

“Is that what you did, sending that sealed chest?” asked Miranda.

Dominic nodded. “Each Abbot at Sarth prepares against the time of great trial, when we shall see the abbey destroyed. Against that day we are preparing another place, one that will be called That Which Was Sarth. The repository exists and awaits, and we only waited for the foretold sign.”

“And we were that sign?”

Dominic nodded. “In our dealings with the Greater Gods, we have come to understand their limits as well as their power; they communicate to us in a fashion that can be only called disjointed. One thing above all else, though, was the event of our
first contact, ages ago, when we were warned that one would come, with companions, who knew the secret, and at that time the world would change. Yes, your arrival is the signal that we need to begin moving the great library at Sarth to That Which Was Sarth.”

Miranda said, “Where are you moving the library to?”

“To a location, high in the mountains of Yabon, where it will be safe.”

“Well, if the Emerald Queen gets her hands on the Lifestone, nothing will be safe,” Pug observed.

Miranda said, “Then let us set about forgetting the reason behind this horror.”

Dominic indicated they should sit in a circle and join hands. The old cleric said, “Close your eyes, and open your minds to me. When we have finished you will know nothing of Nalar. You will only know that you have forgotten something, but rather than be curious, you will be relieved. You will know that it is vital that you not remember this thing, for to do so would bring danger beyond any you imagine. You will remember enough of what we have talked about to be aware of your chosen course of action, but of Nalar, the only thing you will recall is that out there, somewhere, a grave danger lurks, one against which you must remain vigilant, but one which you must never seek to know.”

Dominic began his incantation and all of them felt a strange presence enter their minds, which began to order knowledge. For a brief instant each felt a mild discomfort, and a flash of fear, which was instantly replaced by a calm reassurance, and then, suddenly, it was done.

Pug blinked and said, “It’s over?”

Dominic said, “Yes. You remember what you need to remember, and the rest is safely locked away. It must be so.”

They took what he said at face value. “We must go now,” Dominic said.

“First I will take you and Nakor to Elvandar,” said Pug. He glanced at Miranda and her father. “Then we go to face the Emerald Queen.”

Tomas awaited in the glade where Tathar and Acaila had overseen their protection. He stood resplendent in his armor of white and gold. Behind him waited the warriors of Elvandar, Calin and Redtree at their head.

“It is time?” asked Tomas as soon as they materialized.

“Not yet,” said Pug, “but soon. Get word to Stone Mountain and the Grey Towers. Call the dwarves to war. You know where to lead them when they gather.”

Tomas nodded, and started issuing instructions to elven runners nearby. Pug had alerted him of their coming, using a mental call agreed upon by the two boyhood friends years before. Nakor and Dominic moved away from the three magicians, and Pug came up to Tomas. “We go to challenge the Emerald Queen before she reaches our shore. Should we fail, the war will come to you eventually. You know the stakes. You must convince Dolgan and Halfdan down in Dorgin to come to the Kingdom’s aid.”

Tomas nodded. “Dolgan will come. He and I have too much between us for him to ignore my call. Halfdan will come because Dolgan comes.” He
smiled, and for a moment Pug saw his boyhood friend again, behind the mask of the alien warrior. “The dwarves of Dorgin never forgave Dolgan for not inviting them to the last war.”

Pug looked around the glade, as if drinking in the calm beauty, imprinting it on his memory. It was early evening here in Elvandar, so it would be morning where the invading fleet would be found.

Pug gripped Tomas’s hand and said, “Good-bye, my friend.”

Tomas squeezed lightly. “Be well. I will see you when we celebrate this victory.”

Pug only nodded.

He turned and came to where Macros and Miranda waited, reached out and took their hands. Suddenly they were gone.

Nakor said, “We have much to do, and less time to do it in than we might wish for.”

Tomas nodded. “I fear you are correct.”

Dominic said, “I need to reach our abbey in the Grey Towers. From there our brothers can transport me to anyplace in the Kingdom where we have an abbey or temple.”

Tomas motioned to an elf. “Galain, see to horses for the morning.” To Nakor and Dominic he said, “You will dine and rest, and leave in the morning.”

Nakor said, “No, Sho Pi and I will stay here. I think we will be needed here, soon.”

Nakor was without his ever-present grin, and Dominic said, “You’re fearful?”

“Yes,” said the little man. “I know why Pug does this thing, and it is unwise, I think. He does it as much to prove his love for Miranda as to defeat the enemy, and while I believe she is right in assessing
his power, I think she underestimates the power of the Emerald Queen and the Pantathians.” Then he added in a low voice, “And vastly underestimates the third player.”

Dominic’s eyes widened and he pulled Nakor aside as the elves walked on. “What do you remember?”

“All of it,” said Nakor. Something strange burned in the little man’s eyes. “I have my own ways of protecting my mind, Abbot, just as you do. Those three magicians like to think they know a lot about the many paths of magic, but they still think, too much along one path. You and I know there are many paths, many ways to proceed. Or no paths, if you look at it another way. You have no need to worry about my falling under the Nameless One’s influence.”

“Who are you?” asked Dominic.

A grin spread across Nakor’s face. “Just a gambler who knows some tricks.”

Dominic said, “If you weren’t clearly working for our cause, I would fear you, I think.”

Nakor shrugged. “Those who aren’t my friends do well to fear me, for as I said, I know a few tricks.”

With that enigmatic pronouncement, Nakor walked after the elves, leaving a very shaken old Abbot with much to ponder.

“What next?” said Miranda.

Macros pointed downward. “There!”

The three magicians hovered high above the clouds as hundreds of miles of shimmering water spread out below. Pug turned his eyes to the point Macros indicated and saw the fleet of the Emerald Queen.