Working God's Mischief (10 page)

The curious character inside Piper Hecht wanted to ask questions until he ferreted out details of that conflict.

The twins faced him. Their manner was respectful. The female said, “It is plain that you do not trust us, despite the oaths and assurances you have extracted.”

“Talk to Heris.” He indicated his sister. “She decides here.” A nod.

“As you wish.” Hourli nodded.

The male god spoke to her. “You judge us all by the example of Lucke. You believe that his behavior is what can be expected of us all. That is not the way it will be.”

Hecht was inclined to observe that only one rogue Instrumentality was needed to bring on the pain. He kept silent.

Heris said, “Most knowledge of you has vanished from the middle world. You live on only in the folk stories of peasants and Asgrimmur's recollections from the Great Sky Fortress. And in the Bastard's mind. None of those sources offer any reason to trust the Shining Ones.”

“Perhaps. The mortal perspective must, of necessity, be different. However, mortality is being taken into account. We are investing in our own survival. We must immigrate to the middle world for the power. While we are there, during your time, we will cleave to our promises. Without trickery. Without treachery. Without legalistic mumbo jumbo being used to evade understood obligations. We face extinction. That is no sweet prospect.”

The female divinity continued, speaking to Hecht. “It used to be thought best for us to be seen as clever and tricky—though that reputation came more from muddled, delusional mortal thinking than from deliberate divine mischief.”

Hecht was not sure he understood, but that sounded good.

*   *   *

Korban Iron Eyes burst into the tavern, stumbled, nearly fell. Audacious but inauspicious. A dozen short, wide, hairy, ferocious-looking dwarves followed. All wore armor and an arsenal of sharps.

The Aelen Kofer.

Every dwarf had a slow match sputtering atop his or her helmet. Every dwarf's personal weaponry included at least two handheld falcons.

Hecht muttered to Heris, “I didn't think it would be long before they started playing with firepowder toys.”

“Good news, them turning up, though.”

The return of the dwarves meant a way out of the Realm of the Gods. If Iron Eyes decided to let them go.

None of the Old Ones bullied the Aelen Kofer. Wise, considering survival was at stake.

The crown prince of the dwarves strutted around, eyeballing each Old One and middle-worlder. He got the cold eye from Piper Hecht, then a snicker.

“Something amusing you?”

“Your hair is on fire.”

“Yikes!” Smoldering because of a rogue slow match, Khor-ben Jarneyn was less intimidating than he hoped.

Jarneyn's son dumped water on his father's head. The indignity wrung the tension out of the moment.

Iron Eyes pretended amusement. “Heris. Girl. You've exceeded my expectations. You winkled them out and you tamed them. What were the odds?”

Copper said, “I knew you'd do it.”

“Are you flirting with me?”

Nothing of the sort had been in the younger dwarf's mind. He sputtered like the match atop his helmet.

“Just messing with you. Iron Eyes, stop pretending to be some serious badass and help us get out of this dump before we starve.”

“Living on onions and beer? Sounds like paradise to me.”

“You've been listening at keyholes.”

Hecht was startled. That was daring. Iron Eyes had a real capacity to make her miserable. “Heris.”

“I know. I'll stop, now.”

Iron Eyes said, “I apologize. I really didn't think you'd get it under control.”

“We're all set. Agreements are in place. In exchange for freedom the Shining Ones will help Piper. And, once they have their strength back, they'll help with Kharoulke's extended family. So. Talk to me about how to get home.”

“It's pretty basic, my love. Same as when we opened the way for your elderly relative, before. Pack your bags and strap on your sea legs.”

“All right.” Heris started to rise.

“Let me look around first. Just to make sure everything is what it seems.”

“You're the judge. You get to do whatever you want. That was our deal.”

“Such a mixture of temptation. Letting everything just fade away is huge. The Aelen Kofer would feel that some balance had been achieved. But we did make promises. Though we reserved the right to be flexible concerning our own survival.”

“But not so worried that somebody might recognize you as major bullshitters. Come on, Iron Eyes! I've seen you in action. I know what you're up to.”

“You are a marvel, Heris. I do wish you had been born Aelen Kofer. I'd add you to my harem.”

“Pity, that.” As one of the squat and hairies delivered a solid punch to the crown prince's left bicep. “But I'd insist on exclusive rights. So, we're going sailing.”

“Rowing. It's the only way.”

“A half truth but why cavil about paths through the world of the Aelen Kofer? I want to go home. Though I do have something to do before we go.” She left briskly. Iron Eyes exchanged interrogatory glances with the men around the table, then shrugged.

Heris came back with the soul eggs of the Trickster, Red Hammer, and Zyr. She fumbled them onto a table facing the Shining Ones, indicated which was which. “It's possible I could restore these three. I'm the only one who can. I'll hear arguments, for and against. I'll keep in mind the characters of the individuals.” Not so subtly saying she was disinclined to hear support for the Trickster.

The gods had opinions. They expressed those, loudly.

“Stop!” Heris barked. “I don't want a debate. We'll vote. And I claim a vote for myself. First, Lucke. I vote for no mercy. The son of a bitch stays here.”

Six Old Ones agreed. Sprenghul and Fastthal dithered, then reluctantly agreed with the others.

Little patience was accorded them. They were the least of the rescued Instrumentalities.

“All right. Excellent. The Trickster stays.” She indicated the soul egg of the war god. “I have no opinion. I know nothing about him. I'll vote only if there's a tie.”

A tiebreaker was not needed. The quiet, no longer well-known Zyr was universally respected. His peers seemed to think he should take over as top deity. He was the eldest and wisest.

“Which leaves Red Hammer, no thinker or planner, which is why he ended up this way. I've heard the arguments about him. They don't make me think that he won't do something else deadly stupid if I restore him.”

The Old Ones voted. Three were in favor of restoration. Two were against it. Hourli and Hourlr abstained, as did Red Hammer's stepdaughter, Aldi.

The rest did not care, one way or another.

Heris said, “I'll stand with the nays. For now. Meaning we have a three way tie. Iron Eyes. Take care of Lucke and Red Hammer. Lucke to be left here. Red Hammer can go home with you and be preserved. And why do I see a gleam in your beady little eyes, all of a sudden?”

“Lucke at the mercy of the Aelen Kofer? When he has done so much evil to us? Priceless.”

“You can't take revenge on him, Iron Eyes.”

“But…”

“To do that you'd need to restore him. That can't happen. Avoiding any chance of a comeback is why I want to leave him here. If he leaves this world, sooner or later he'll come into contact with people like those in the Connec who wanted to resurrect those Old Ones there.”

Iron Eyes gave these Old Ones an ugly look. “So you'll lay it all off on me?”

“For now. One day when Red Hammer isn't a danger anymore I'll bring him back.”

Sheaf protested.

Heris told her, “Not for a while. I don't want him coming out swinging again. Understand?”

Piper Hecht caught Februaren's eye. His ancestor seemed astounded by the modern Heris, too.

*   *   *

A ship lay against the quay in the harbor. The derelict was a permanent fixture. It barely remained afloat. When the magic was strong, though, it became the golden barge of the gods.

Dwarf oarsmen drove the barge across the harbor till it encountered an invisible barrier. From the quay the view to seaward ended in fog. At the barrier, though, a good hard squint let a viewer see the middle world beyond: choppy, dark gray, frigid waters scattered with random chunks of ice calved not far to the north. This corner of the middle world had forsaken summer.

Iron Eyes told the Old Ones, “Brace yourselves. The middle-world magic isn't strong anymore but what remains will bite sharper than anything you've tasted in years. Don't lose yourselves when it hits you.”

Asgrimmur had assumed a solitary station aft. Hecht asked Heris, “Is he sulking?”

“He's scared. He doesn't want to walk the Construct again. Last time he nearly didn't make it out the other end.”

“I know that terror.” His experiences had been soul-crushing. “Though it wasn't so bad doing it in a big family glob. Tell him to fly. He's got wings.”

“Good idea. Though he'd really like to get his human shape back.”

Iron Eyes and his crew worked on the gate to the middle world. Everyone recognized the instant the first gap opened.

The gods gasped. Several shrieked. Faint though it was, the magic tasted delicious.

“Easy!” Iron Eyes bellowed. “Don't make me knock heads!”

The gods became restless but rationality survived. Iron Eyes went around reminding them that only patience would assure survival. The way had to be opened so the barge could pass through.

Threads of color raced through the harbor water. Golden light sparked on decomposing wood.

“And here we go,” Iron Eyes soon said. “Discipline couldn't last.”

Several Old Ones abandoned human form to become gray mists that tangled and struggled to get to the magic.

“They'll spread some terror round the islands where the mer live,” Februaren said.

The hunger overpowered several more. Heris said, “Let's hope they remember their obligations.”

The opening of the way continued. Iron Eyes proceeded cautiously. Hecht asked, “You expecting trouble?”

“After what Heris did to Kharoulke? With the obvious assistance of the Aelen Kofer? Why would I be careful sliding into his world? His ilk will want to make sure that never happens to them.”

“Can't stop it now. The knowledge is loose. Not even God Himself can make it go away.”

Blasphemy! God could do anything. There were no limits on Him.

Hecht wanted to believe that. He could not. Not anymore.

“That truth won't keep the primal Instrumentalities from trying, Commander of the Righteous.”

No doubt.

Asgrimmur came up to check the size of the opening as the last two Old Ones surrendered to their hunger. He raised a wing some, let it relax. “Almost time. Heris. Be careful making your transition.” He hopped onto the rail, balanced precariously, flung himself forward. He came within inches of ending up wet. He did dip each wing tip once before gaining altitude.

Hecht asked Heris, “There something going on between you two?”

“Not yet.”

“Heris!”

“I didn't mean that the way you're thinking. Though it wouldn't be any of your damned business if I did.”

“Heris!” He tried out his boss male voice.

“Butt out, little brother. Or look forward to a long walk home. Shouldn't take you more than three months if you survive the swim to Friesland.”

Februaren and Renfrow were amused but kept quiet.

Heris grumbled, “For thirty-eight years men told me what I could and couldn't do. And I was miserable. That's done. I'll make my own misery, now, thank you very much.”

Februaren made a small gesture, out of her sight, suggesting that Hecht shut the hell up.

“As you will,” Hecht said, conceding her personal sovereignty, but confused by her desire.

Each time he thought he had adapted his new world smacked him with something else.

Iron Eyes shouted in the Aelen Kofer tongue. The oars backed water. The barge rotated, then surged through the gateway.

Even Piper Hecht felt the difference when the barge crossed over.

Renfrow was gone in seconds, by whatever means he used. That left only Piper Hecht and his hodgepodge family.

Heris asked, “Double Great, are you going with the rest of us? Or are you up to something of your own?”

Februaren's answer seemed more calculated than it should have been. So Hecht thought.

“I have my own chores to attend. I'll see you at the townhouse.” He vanished with an audible pop.

Heris told the others, “Get in here close, around Piper. Anna, you and Pella need to be in the middle, too. Lila and Vali, same as before. Piper, hang on to this.” She handed him the soul egg of Zyr, wrapped in Aelen Kofer cheesecloth.

He was startled by the weight. It was as heavy as iron. “What?”

“Just hang on to it. Going through. I'll need my hands free. You drop it in transit, we'll all end up sorry. Maybe. I can't say for sure. I just know that I can't take you home and mess with that at the same time. Pella. Come.”

The boy was admiring the cold Andorayan Sea and cliffs of ice to the north. His aunt had destroyed the Windwalker up there just a way.

Hecht shoved the egg inside his shirt, adjusting it securely.

Korban Iron Eyes shouted at his rowers to turn the barge. He meant to head right back into the Realm of the Gods.

The family Hecht clumped up. Iron Eyes said, “In a few hours there'll be no more Nine Worlds. We'll seal the Realm and let it die. Heris. Caution your ancestor against jumping in there again. He'll die. There will be nothing left but the Trickster's soul egg.”

“I'll tell him, though I can't imagine him wanting to go back.”

“It's been a joy knowing you, Heris. Recall the Aelen Kofer well, with an occasional much of ale, if you can.”