The Gods of Garran (20 page)

The pain had lessened. The guilt had lessened.

Had the gods forgiven her?

Red, gold, silver.

Deep under the Sea of Glass lay the Sun Caves, made of glass and crystal woven in intricate patterns. When the sun shone through the Sea of Glass into the caves, they filled with a rainbow of light.

Teal, green, brown.

Long ago this had been the refuge of the gods. The Garrans never ventured here … until now.

The attacks of doubt and recrimination came less often. If she hadn't been accepted, then at least the gods hadn't rejected her yet. They hadn't blotted her out.

Still Asta struggled to remain conscious. Fought against the darkness. She hated loosing time. She wanted to know what was happening.

She knew things she shouldn't. Ancient things. The path through the Sun Caves. Many of the Old Ways. Things Borrai.

The winds were her eyes. They brought knowledge of things outside herself. Her father and the Garran boy approached the Sea of Glass. The Chanden weren't her only problem. The Garrans had forgotten the gods in the last hundred years.

A council was needed.

Her mind felt so sluggish. Her body moved of its own accord, not at her command.

In the center of the caves she found the hrisak, the meeting place of the gods. The light collected from above into a circle of glass which refracted it into thousand different shards of crystal throughout the Sun Caves. The caves were almost as bright as daylight.

Asta stepped into the circle and touched the crystals in the center, bringing them to life. Fascinated, Asta forgot her pain for a moment. Forgot to struggle.

The crystals sang in clear harmonic tones to the colors that Asta touched.

Scarlet, blue, amber.

Some thoughts began to align.

Gold, mahogany, sand-bronze.

The pain lessened.

Slowly the gods of Garran awoke and Asta heard their voices. In her mind, they saw the state of their world of Garran.

There was a solution.

They would wake the priests--those who waited for but had never heard the voice of the gods. They could be warned. They must not go to battle but take cover from the coming sandstorm.

Whether or not the clan chiefs would listen, Asta did not know. But those clans that were headstrong enough to defy their priests perhaps did not deserve to escape the wrath of the gods.

Through the desert sands they trudged towards the Sea of Glass. Moorhen had never been here--nor had any Garran that he knew of. The place was more feared than forbidden. But the Chanden were massing against his people and only the gods could save them now. Asta was the focus of the gods’ power. He would appeal to her--there was no other way.

In front of Moorhen walked Koethe, not used to long desert walks. When he lagged, Moorhen gave him a harsh blow of encouragement. Moorhen burned to kill this man who had caused such great trouble to the Garrans and to himself. And though Moorhen was sure that the gods would side with him, he knew that this man was Asta's father. How much of Asta remained he wasn't certain, but for her anger's sake, he spared Koethe--as much as it rankled him.

"What is that?" Koethe asked of the shimmering surface ahead.

"The home of the gods--the Sea of Glass, formed thousands of years ago in the time of legends."

"My daughter is there?" asked Koethe.

"Perhaps."

They walked for hours in silence until they drew near to the sea. It looked like very still water, a trick of the eye. Finding a passageway down to the Sun Caves was easier than Moorhen had expected--they were everywhere.

"How will we find her in all of this?" asked Koethe once they were below the sea. The Sun Caves extended for miles. There was a stale smell here. Even the animals wouldn’t come here.

The air was dry and cool--free of the dust and sand from above. There were no proper walls, just sheets of crystal and stalactites and fantastic formations of glass some of which almost looked deliberate, like sculptures the gods had made with their own hands. Reflected light from above the Sea of Glass bounced off these fantastic shapes to light every part of the chamber in beautiful colors.

"This cave, it seems to go on forever," said Koethe, in wonderment.

"Keep silent, Outsider," said Moorhen. "This is sacred ground."

"These crystals," said Koethe. "These are the kind that they mine in Rashan."

"What of it?" demanded Moorhen. "Or do you think you can mine here too?"

"I didn't say that," said Koethe.

"You think that just because you have the power to take advantage of this planet's resources that they belong to you," said Moorhen. "That's not true. The world of Garran belongs to itself and it's not your possession nor are the things that live on it."

"You're suggesting the world itself is alive?" laughed Koethe.

"Yes," said Moorhen. "Every Garran child knows that." He was amazed that anyone could have an attitude as arrogant as these Chanden.

Koethe fell silent, as though considering this. He followed Moorhen as they went deeper and deeper into the cave.

"In the center," said Moorhen. "Towards the light."

They picked their way through the maze of glass tunnels. He could see toward the center a gathering of light--that was where he hoped to find her. He knew that the penalty for this intrusion into the home of the gods could be death--but he was willing to risk it to save his people and bring the revenge on the Chanden.

Finally Moorhen saw her standing in the center of light. Koethe saw her too. "There she is," he shouted and attempted to run. Moorhen quickly outpaced him and threw him to the ground, giving him a sound blow to the head for emphasis.

"This is the home of the gods," Moorhen warned, keeping his voice low. "You think she knows you, but she may not. We'll approach with caution." Moorhen helped the man up who glared at him. Moorhen gave him a push forward and they continued walking.

They found a path through the spider-web of glass and got into the main chamber where Asta stood on a platform surrounded by color. Even Koethe made no sudden moves, now awed by the sight of his daughter communing alone with the gods.

Moorhen forced Koethe to kneel, then knelt himself. "Gods of Garran please hear me," said Moorhen, having no idea what to say. "I'm here to ask your aid in overcoming the forces arrayed against your people, led by this invader." Moorhen indicated Koethe, hoping that the gods fully possessed Asta and that she would not betray either the gods or the Garrans by favoring her own kind--and her own flesh and blood.

Asta spared Moorhen a glance. Her gaze was, as always, cold and unreadable. She said nothing but continued to move her hands, touching the various colored crystals in sequence. An odd melody drifted through the chamber, the product of her touch.

Moorhen waited awhile. When she did not speak nor forbid him, he rose, dragging Koethe to his feet. Together they moved closer to Asta. He moved forward, watching her and wondering if she was even now preparing retribution on the enemy.

But Moorhen had been careless of Koethe, leaving his back to him. Suddenly a blow to Moorhen's head sent him reeling to the ground. Koethe had broken lose--curse him! Moorhen had taken his weapon but not thought to search him for the Chanden keys.
Moorhen tried to recover his footing but Koethe kicked him in the back. Moorhen lost his balance again and fell on his face.

Anger burned within Moorhen that Koethe would dare commit an act of violence in the home of the gods. He whirled to face him, ready to ward off the next attack and found himself staring at the gun he had stolen earlier that day from Koethe.

"Don't move," said Koethe. "I've had enough of you and don't think I won't use this!"

"You have no right to speak, alien," spat Moorhen. "This is holy ground!"

At this Koethe laughed, angering Moorhen even more.

"You have taken our cities and killed our gods. We will be free of you. Even you cannot withstand their power--now that the Gods of Garran are awake!"

"These offenses you speak of took place over a hundred years ago! Your people were nothing but barbarians plagued with disease and poverty. We tried to lift you up and civilize you--and you repay it with bloodshed! What did those people in Hobset do to you? Nothing! But you killed every man, woman and child!"

It was true. This point Moorhen could not easily defend. He knew that Ashtan had been wrong to attack the humans. But still--they also had cause.

"What choice do we have when Chanden can casually attack defenseless Garran children and beat them nearly to death? How many of our people have the Chanden carelessly killed without reason? Would you have killed me to silence me for my part in finding the godstone?"

Koethe said nothing. Perhaps he had no defense against this accusation. "It doesn't matter. You've lost." He came forward and forced Moorhen to turn around and then cuffed Moorhen's hands behind his back.

"Come on," said Koethe. It was his turn to give Moorhen a blow to move him forward. Reluctantly, Moorhen complied.

They approached Asta who ceased making the music. She stepped forward and held up her hand in warning. "Come no closer."

"Darling, it's me--your father." He tried to take a step forward but she stretched out her hand again.

"Stop!" she cried.

He stopped. Moorhen held his breath, hoping that the gods wouldn't punish him for the stupidity of this alien.

Koethe dealt a blow to Moorhen. "What have you done to her?"

"Nothing," said Moorhen. "I told you. She is possessed by the godstone. The gods work through her. You must
not
anger her."

"Asta," said Koethe, trying to reason with her. "It isn't safe here. I need to take you back to our camp. They've done something to you."

She stared at him coolly with those blue eyes.

"Please," begged Koethe. "You'll be safe with me."

Slowly she moved forward towards Koethe and Moorhen. Moorhen dropped to his knees in honor of those she served.

"Please, don't abandon us," pleaded Moorhen to Asta as she approached. "The people of Garran need your help."

Asta said nothing but touched his forehead in the way the priests do in ceremony. It was a blessing. Moorhen knew that she was still god-touched. She looked at Koethe and nodded her assent to go with him.

Koethe hauled Moorhen to his feet. "Come on," said Koethe, "Let's get out of here." He led Moorhen and Asta back through the Sun Caves until they found a passage to make their way above ground.

Moorhen cursed his stupidity. He’d taken the Chanden leader, Koethe, prisoner after their airship had crashed. Moorhen had handcuffed Koethe, but didn’t realize that he could unlock the cuffs and get free.

Now Koethe held Moorhen prisoner once again. Asta, still god-touched, had gone along with her father, leaving the Sea of Glass.

Once Koethe had led his daughter and Moorhen back to the surface, Koethe radioed the Chanden for help. Again Moorhen cursed himself for not thinking to search the man for the small pocket radios that they carried.

They waited in silence until an airship picked them up a half an hour later.

From the airship window, Moorhen saw the warriors of the clan people assembled in groups in the desert. They carried spears, swords,
ooluks
, and
yothar
slings, all clad in the colors of their clans: red and yellow, crimson and orange, blue and white, cream and brown.

Then after miles more passed below, he saw the armies of the Chanden, in their silver and black. They had alien armor that was nearly impenetrable along with their distance weapons that made even the poorest warrior into an effective marksman. Plus they had their airships and bombs. He'd heard the stories of their conquest before and knew that they would use the same weapons, with little remorse, that they used on his Garran ancestors.

Fighting the Chanden was madness. And yet, as his father said, all of them were tired of oppression. But the gods of old did not countenance war; they forbade it.

The food and water Moorhen had eaten from the pack had helped stave his hunger and thirst but only slightly. And it wasn't likely that he'd get fed soon. He put aside these petty thoughts. He worried more about the upcoming battle. The Chanden would wait for the Garrans to attack and use this excuse to wipe them out. Moorhen regretted now that he had not killed Koethe when he had the chance. But would that have stopped it?

Finally the ship touched down at the Chanden base and the guards roughly dragged Moorhen out and brought him along behind Koethe and Asta. They did not restrain Asta--did not believe that they needed to. Moorhen was sure they had miscalculated. She was their enemy as surely as he was--unless she was capable of defying the gods to save her own people. He hoped this would not be the case.

Koethe stopped to hold a discussion with other officers who were gathered around some monitor equipment in a tent. Three of them were dressed in olive and black uniforms and they stood apart from the others, observing the proceedings. The tallest, a stout Chanden, had fierce eyes and the look of a war chief. Beside him stood another man and also a woman officer. These seemed rare among the Chanden. She was ugly, her face frozen in a perpetual scowl.

"What is our status?" asked Koethe.

"We're tracking movement of rebel troops now," said an old Chanden war chief, whom Moorhen later learned was named General Godwin. "We have them outnumbered and outgunned. They'd be fools to go through with the attack."

Koethe glanced over at Moorhen. "But I have a feeling that they will. Isn't that so?" He glanced at Moorhen, but perhaps he did not expect an answer.

Moorhen didn't bother to respond.

"You found your daughter, I see," said the General.

"Yes," said Koethe. He turned to her. "Now, Asta, tell me--what happened?"

Asta looked at them and spoke. "The gods of Garran are displeased with you and your people. You have disrupted the land with continual conflicts and your harvesting."

They stared at her and laughed. "You can't be serious," said Godwin. He looked at Koethe in question.

Asta fixed her bright blue eyes on Koethe. "You think you are the gods of Garran--but you are not. You think that the land belongs to you, but it does not. From now on, you will accept the clans as equal to you."

For a moment no one spoke. "They've done something to her," said Koethe, glaring at Moorhen, "Something having to do with the godstone."

"She picked up the stone," said Moorhen, "and it bonded with her. We did nothing."

"And you," Asta turned to Moorhen, "also will not fight the Chanden. The shedding of blood is abhorrent to us. We will not permit it. Your
Shaheak
have been warned. You will withdraw from the valleys south of Wanthe and the other places where you've pushed out the
tacha
. Those grounds belonged to them."

"What about them?" asked Moorhen, nodding at the Chanden. "They murdered the Borrai! They are the killers--they should be driven from our planet! Will you not do this?" The soldier next to him gave Moorhen a harsh blow but he ignored it.

"Those things are past," said Asta. "We will tolerate the Chanden, if they will abide our rules."

"Nonsense," said Godwin tersely. "We will not follow the rules of any Garran religion or mumbo-jumbo put in your head through hypnosis."

Koethe simply watched his daughter in disbelief.

"Then you will not be tolerated here," said Asta.

This brought nervous laughter from the Chanden, but her words made them uneasy. "Lt. Becnand," said Koethe. "Please take my daughter back to headquarters in Urrlan and see that she gets medical attention."

"At once, sir," the man said. He stepped toward her but Asta held out her hand.

"You will
not
," she said in a threatening voice.

"Asta, darling," said Koethe. "Be reasonable. Go with him. It's for the best." The man moved towards Asta and electricity shot out of her hand and hit the man. He shrieked and fell to the ground in pain.

She looked at the Commander. "You will relinquish your claims on all lands to the east of the High Plains. Those Garrans who chose to remain in the west shall follow your rule."

She looked at Moorhen. "And you will relinquish all lands west of the High Plains to the Chanden. In the east, the Garran tribes shall rule themselves.

They all stared at her, dumbfounded.

"But Asta," sputtered Koethe, "we have valuable mines in the east, near Hobset and Sonthhe! You can't ask us to walk away from years of development?"

"The crystals you seek are more plentiful to the west, in the Purple Lakes. You may mine them there. The land near Hobset is sacred to the Clans." Her voice was distant and haughty, as Moorhen imagined the Borrai would be.

"I cannot take this request back to the High Realm. They will laugh at me," insisted Koethe.

The woman who was once Asta stared at Koethe, unmoved and alien. "We have spoken," said Asta. "You will obey." She turned and walked straight out into the desert.

"Stop her!" shouted Koethe.

Several soldiers raised their weapons at her. She swung around to face them. Koethe saw what was happening. "No, don't shoot!" His pleas were ignored as the startled soldiers took aim. Asta stood there calmly, watching them with her cool blue eyes, and the soldiers hesitated. The wind stirred the sands at her feet. She waved her hand toward them in a sudden movement. A terrible blast of wind and sand rose up and shot towards the men.

Moorhen dove for the ground and buried his head. He heard cries above him as the Chanden scrambled. Shots were fired. "Stop!" yelled Koethe. "What are you doing?" Moorhen wasn't sure if he was speaking to his men or to Asta.

There was shouting and confusion but it was several minutes until the winds died down enough for them to stand.

When Moorhen regained his feet, he found the Chanden half covered in sand; several looked injured.

"Track her!" shouted Koethe. "Get an airship and follow her."

"Yes, sir," said Lt. Becnand. He took off at a run.

"We will attack as planned," said Godwin to Koethe.

"But my daughter," began Koethe. Godwin ignored his objections.

"No bloody Garran sand-trick is going to stop the power of the Chanden Empire." Godwin stared at Moorhen as he left the tent.

Koethe stood there a moment, deflated. Then he turned his gaze to Moorhen.

"Bring him," he said to his aide. "Garran, you're going to tell me everything I want to know."