The Mad Voyage of Prince Malock (46 page)

The Messenger slid out of the way as the gates
creaked open inward; not fully, but just enough that three mortals
could slip through without trouble.

Malock looked between Vashnas on his left and Kinker
on his right. “You two ready for this?”

“I have been ready for thousands of years,” said
Vashnas.

“I'm not,” Kinker admitted. “But there's not much I
can do about it, so I suppose I have to be.”

Malock nodded. “Then let us enter. Today, my destiny
will finally be fulfilled. This I know.”

So the trio of mortals passed through the gates,
Malock certain that whatever lay beyond them, whatever Kano was
going to tell him, whatever Tinkar was going to try to do to them,
they would be able to handle it.

-

The Temple of the Gods reminded Kinker of the Temple
of Kano back home on Destan. Of course, that temple was nowhere
near as majestic or large as this one. The Temple of Kano was old
and full of evil, not helped in the slightest by its decayed outer
appearance. Unspeakable crimes had been committed there, once even
by Kinker himself, and the place reflected the smallness of mortal
minds (he was surprised to be thinking such things; perhaps it was
the presence of the god affecting his thoughts).

The Temple's lobby was immense and wide-open,
reminding Kinker more of the open seas than the inside of a
building. The immense ceiling was supported by pillars made of
marble and that same white stone that paved the streets, the
pillars themselves carved with images of gods.

On either side of the path leading to the very end
of the lobby were statues of the gods. It wasn't just a few statues
either, but hundreds, maybe even thousands, of statues, each one
representing a different god or goddess. It astonished Kinker, as
he, Malock, and Vashnas made their way down the lobby, at how few
gods he really knew of when he saw the dazzling variety of statues
that took up almost the entirety of the massive lobby. He wondered
who all of these gods were and exactly what roles they played in
keeping the balance of Martir.

Of course, not all of the statues were in one piece.
Quite a few appeared to have been smashed and not recently, either.
Kinker vaguely recalled Malock mentioning something about some war
between the gods that had occurred eons ago, near the beginning of
time, and wondered if these smashed statues represented the fallen
gods and goddesses from that conflict. He certainly felt no desire
to pick through the smashed statues, although he wondered why they
hadn't been cleaned up yet, considering that they took away from
the lobby's magnificence.

Another striking feature of the lobby was its
absolute silence. Outside of the footfalls of Kinker, Malock, and
Vashnas, there was no sound to be heard. And this silence was not
like the silence back outside, when the katabans were watching the
crew make their way through the city. Rather, it was a kind of
imposed silence, as if excessive noise was against the law here.
This silence made Kinker feel very small, much smaller than he
normally did.

Thus, he was glad when they reached the end of the
lobby, where they found some human-sized double doors that were
unlocked. Malock had no trouble pushing them open and he was the
first to step through the threshold into whatever room awaited
them. Even though no one had told them to enter, Kinker understood
why Malock did; he could feel the presence of the gods drawing them
to this room.

The 'room' they walked into was not a room at all.
Even calling it a chamber was an insult to its size and majesty. It
was like walking into a full-sized area stadium, complete with sand
pit in the center, and stands rising up on all sides. The stands,
however, were not quite stands, but rather thrones of varying
heights and sizes. There seemed to be as many thrones as there were
statues of the gods, except each throne was completely empty.

Moreover, the ceiling was a glass dome, so clear
that Kinker at first thought there wasn't a ceiling at all, and
light filtered in through the dome. Despite the bright light
shining down on them all, it didn't make Kinker feel any happier.
He instead felt tense.

The trio reached the center of the room, where they
stopped and looked up at the hundreds of thrones that stood up all
around them. As Kinker noted before, however, every throne was
empty. There were no gods in the room, even though Kinker could
still feel their energy and presence flowing through the room like
a mighty wave of the ocean.

Malock scratched the back of his head as he looked
around, frowning. “Where is everyone?”

Vashnas, too, was looking around, but she was
scowling rather than frowning. “I imagine Tinkar, being the coward
that he is, ran as fast as he could when he realized Bifor failed.
He obviously didn't want to die today.”

A powerful, aged voice swept through the room just
then, saying, “I have always known of your low opinion of me,
Vashnas, but I never realized just how lowly you think of me.
Truly, the years have done nothing but make you bitter; bitter and
arrogant.”

When Kinker blinked, there was suddenly two other
beings in the room besides himself, Malock, and Vashnas. The first
was a young woman, perhaps in her thirties (although Kinker
instinctively knew she was centuries older than that), sitting atop
one of the thrones in the lists before them. He might otherwise not
have noticed her if her hair had not been flowing—quite literally,
like water—down her shoulders. In fact, her whole body was a clear
blue and she herself was completely naked, which somehow didn't
seem inappropriate on her.

The other was an old man, sitting on the throne a
few thrones away from the young woman. Whereas the young woman sat
up straight with the confidence of youth, the old man was bent
over, his veined hands gripping a staff topped with a clock. He
wore robes as white as the sand on Ikadori Island, which contrasted
sharply with his dark-skinned face, etched as it was with
lines.

Though Kinker had never seen either of them in
person before, he immediately knew who those two were.

“Kano, Goddess of the Sea, Sand, and Art,” said
Malock, addressing the young woman. And to the old man he said,
“And Tinkar, God of Fate.”

The young woman smiled at Malock, folding her hands
in her lap. “I am pleased to see that you have made it here alive,
Prince Malock. I am equally pleased to see you, too, Kinker
Dolan.”

Kinker scratched his beard. “Really?”

“Really,” said Kano. “In fact, I am more pleased to
see you than I am to see Malock.”

Malock looked like a shrunken jellyfish when she
said that. “What?”

“It doesn't matter,” said Tinkar. “I am not even
sure why we are speaking to all three of you together like this. I
would rather deal with Vashnas in private, by myself.”

Kano shot Tinkar an annoyed look. “You know why we
are doing this together, Tinkar. Or did you forget about the part
where one of
your
followers tried to kill one of mine? I am
certain that Malock would love to hear an explanation for
that.”

Tinkar didn't look at all cowed by Kano's sharp
words. “I have not forgotten that. Nor have I forgotten how you
stubbornly refused my requests to order your prince to kill
Vashnas, even though he was sleeping with her every night. Do you
value the life of one of your servants over the life of your older
brother?”

Kano rolled her eyes. “Older, maybe, but not any
wiser.”

While the two gods bickered like children, Kinker
noticed Vashnas reaching into her coat pocket. She pulled out that
strange little disk from earlier, turned it over in her hand a few
times, and quickly put it back in just as Kano and Tinkar returned
their attention to the mortals.

“At any rate,” said Kano, “the point is, you three
are all here for a reason and we, too, are here for a reason. And
that reason—or, I should say, reasons—are what we are here to
discuss.”

Malock raised a hand. “Excuse me, great and powerful
Kano, but may I ask where the other gods are? Why are you two the
only ones here?”

“Because we're the only two gods who have anything
to do with this conflict, mortal,” said Tinkar. “Of course, there
is our younger sister, the Mechanical Goddess, but she has never
been very fond of the Throne of the Gods and isn't likely to show
up. Typical.”

“She didn't come because she had me come instead,”
said Vashnas. “We're sick of the way you've treated us. I think
it's about time that someone else got a say in fate, someone who
isn't a jerk.”

Tinkar didn't laugh. Instead, he looked a bit sad.
“Vashnas, I am sorry for what happened all those years ago. It's
just that I don't—“

“No excuses,” said Vashnas, stepping forward, her
hand reaching into her jacket again. “I've been waiting years for
this moment. And I am not about to let it slip out of my
grasp.”

She pulled the shiny silver disk out of her jacket
and hurled it at Tinkar with amazing speed and accuracy. It sliced
through the air and Tinkar didn't even try to dodge. He actually
tilted his head to the side, allowing the disk to lodge itself
directly into his neck, a move that shocked Kinker and Malock.

Smiling triumphantly, Vashnas pumped her right fist
and shouted, “Yes! I did it! Your days are numbered, Tinkar, and
there's nothing you can do to—“

Then Tinkar reached up and yanked the disk straight
out of his neck. He looked at it in amusement as the wound in his
neck rapidly closed up and then tossed the disk over his shoulder.
A clatter of metal against stone was the last they heard of the
disk.

Vashnas looked like someone had punched her upside
the head. “What the hell? The Mechanical Goddess told me that would
kill you. It was a direct hit. You shouldn't even have a head
anymore.”

Tinkar chuckled. “Indeed, that little trick might
have worked if you actually had been chosen by the Mechanical
Goddess. If she had actually bothered to grant you some of her
power. If she actually cared about your little vendetta against me
at all.”

“What do you mean?” said Vashnas. “Of course she
cares. She agreed to defend me so I could kill you.”

“Oh, she didn't really mean it,” said Tinkar.
“Remember, the Mechanical Goddess is a southern goddess. She has
little interest in mortals. She is also smart, smart enough to
realize what would happen if I died. No, Vashnas, the Mechanical
Goddess simply fooled you, just as I asked her to.”

A stunned silence filled the room. The only one who
didn't looked stunned by this particular revelation was Kano,
perhaps because she already knew about it.

“What?” said Vashnas. “What do you mean ... asked
her to?”

“Exactly what I mean,” said Tinkar. “You see,
Vashnas, I've always known that someday you would come back for me.
Not because of my ability to see the fate of mortals—I cannot see
yours, thanks to the Curse of Senva—but because you were so filled
with rage and hate at me when you first left World's End so many
years ago. I kept an eye on you as you made a life up north,
waiting for the day when you would finally decide to strike back at
me.

“Then you met Hanarova, that idiotic servant of the
Mechanical Goddess. The Mechanical Goddess told me about you, about
how you offered her a deal: that you would kill me in exchange for
the Mechanical Goddess's protection.”

“That's because I knew the Mechanical Goddess hated
you,” said Vashnas. “She wanted you dead as much as I do.”

“And that, I am afraid, is where you are wrong, my
pretty little fish,” said Tinkar. “The Mechanical Goddess and I
have had, ah, strained relations ever since the War, that's true,
but she knows better than to risk another War via deicide. She
decided to pretend to help you in order to give you over to me,
thus circumventing the problem entirely.”

“But ...” Vashnas struggled to come up with a
response. “So you're saying, I was duped?”

“Of course,” said Tinkar. “As old and long-lived as
you are, Vashnas, you are nothing more than a mortal. You cannot
out-think us, even if you tried to manipulate we gods into fighting
each other. The only reason I let you get this far at all is
because I wanted to see just how crushed you would look when I
revealed the truth to you. And I must say it was worth every minute
I waited.”

Vashnas's hands shook, shook so bad that Kinker
thought she was going to fall apart. “What now? Are you going to
banish me from World's End again?”

“No,” said Tinkar. “I am going to do what I should
have done to you a long time ago: Kill you where you stand, so I no
longer have to worry about you causing any trouble.”

He raised his hand, but he never got to do whatever
he planned to do because Malock stepped in front of Vashnas and
said, “You aren't going to harm her. Or even touch her.”

The throne room's atmosphere changed perceptibly.
Tinkar looked enraged, while Kano seemed be trying hard not to
smirk.

“Are you directly challenging me?” said Tinkar. “Me?
A god?”

“Not challenging you,” said Malock. “I'm simply
protecting Vashnas. There are a lot of things she and I don't agree
on, but I would die myself before I let anyone kill her. And that
includes if the would-be killer in question is a god who controls
fate.”

Tinkar actually stood up. His back was still bent
over, but that didn't stop him from looking like he was going to
murder Malock where he stood. “Such insolence. It has been years
since a mortal last stood up to me like that. I will not let you
get away with this unpunished.”

Kano held up a hand and said, “Remember the Treaty,
Tinkar. Malock is still under my protection. You can fume at him
all you want, but you can't kill him. I
will
intervene if
you try anything against him.”

Tinkar threw her an irritated glare, but he did sit
down, his eyes full of anger and hate. “Yes. I almost forgot. I am
so used to smiting insolent mortals that the terms of the Treaty
almost crossed my mind. It does not change the fact, however, that
I want to kill Vashnas.”