He winced. That would be bad, especially during the day when he had no means to help defend the ship.
Some of his fears must have shown on his face as he climbed up onto the poop deck and sat down, coiling his legs beneath him—Cerberus vaulted up beside him and nuzzled his hand until he scratched the beast behind the ears. “I know you’ll help protect the ship, buddy. But these guys are pretty tough. I’m not sure there’s any way they could be fought off without magic.”
A sudden creak drew his eyes to the ladder as Bryon pulled himself up into view. “Some people say talking to animals is a sign of madness.”
“And if they answer back?” Raven asked, almost afraid to hear the answer.
“That’s a sign of something else entirely.”
Raven sighed and shook his head. “I’m not the person you’re looking for, Bryon. Don’t you think I’d know it if I were?”
“Not according to our Scripture. The Book of the Redeemer was banned by the Church over a century ago—the idea that its power would be supplanted by another concept of the Deity didn’t sit well with the hierarchy. I’ve spent my whole life studying the prophesies, and I’m not deluding myself―or you―when I say that you seem to fit the role.”
“I’m not sure how that’s even possible. Doesn’t the whole concept of a three-fold deity suggest a single god with three different faces?”
“That’s the reading the Church would prefer, but that’s not the way the Book of the Redeemer reads. You—excuse me, the Redeemer—is supposed to vanquish the two other Gods in epic battle. That’s rather difficult to do if you’re all part of the same deity, wouldn’t you say?”
Bryon leaned closer, whispering in an almost conspiratorial tone. “Some of the passages actually suggest that the first two books were fakes—not prophesy at all, but, instead, dictated by two beings who wanted us to believe they were gods.”
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Leaving that intriguing bit of information hanging in the air, Bryon turned and climbed back onto the ladder. “Something to think about,” he said. “Goodnight, Raven.”
Raven leaned back and stared up at the stars, considering. He was beginning to see in this whole thing a familiar theme manifesting itself.
The immortals on his own Earth had also once pretended to be gods. It wasn’t inconceivable that two of them had found a home here and set themselves up a nice little racket by manipulating the locals.
Of course, that begged the question—what was his role in all of this?
And despite his statements to the contrary, he knew full well that some mortals possessed precognitive abilities. One thing was certain—this wasn’t something he could chew on himself and expect to figure out. Nor was talking to the dog going to do him any good. He needed to break down and discuss his suspicions with Val.
He gave Cerberus a final scritch and sought her out in her cabin.
She looked particularly alluring in her thin nightgown, he decided, as she opened the door to her cabin and let him in, rubbing sleep from her eyes. Her blonde hair was a muddled mass spilling over her shoulders, and her pale face pink on one side from where it had been pressed against her pillow.
Even so, her sharp prettiness was like a hammer blow to his sensibilities. “It is done,” he told her.
She nodded sleepily, then, as she came more to her senses, turned a questioning gaze on him. “What did you do with them?”
“I’ve put them somewhere safe,” he replied. “We can figure out what to do with them later.”
She didn’t look particularly pleased with this answer—she’d obviously expected him to destroy them outright, since sending them back to Starhaven wasn’t currently feasible. He watched as she crossed the small cabin to the trunk in one corner, lifting the lid and popping something into her mouth. He smiled, realizing what it had been.
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Some of his fears must have shown on his face as he climbed up onto the poop deck and sat down, coiling his legs beneath him—Cerberus vaulted up beside him and nuzzled his hand until he scratched the beast behind the ears. “I know you’ll help protect the ship, buddy. But these guys are pretty tough. I’m not sure there’s any way they could be fought off without magic.”
A sudden creak drew his eyes to the ladder as Bryon pulled himself up into view. “Some people say talking to animals is a sign of madness.”
“And if they answer back?” Raven asked, almost afraid to hear the answer.
“That’s a sign of something else entirely.”
Raven sighed and shook his head. “I’m not the person you’re looking for, Bryon. Don’t you think I’d know it if I were?”
“Not according to our Scripture. The Book of the Redeemer was banned by the Church over a century ago—the idea that its power would be supplanted by another concept of the Deity didn’t sit well with the hierarchy. I’ve spent my whole life studying the prophesies, and I’m not deluding myself―or you―when I say that you seem to fit the role.”
“I’m not sure how that’s even possible. Doesn’t the whole concept of a three-fold deity suggest a single god with three different faces?”
“That’s the reading the Church would prefer, but that’s not the way the Book of the Redeemer reads. You—excuse me, the Redeemer—is supposed to vanquish the two other Gods in epic battle. That’s rather difficult to do if you’re all part of the same deity, wouldn’t you say?”
Bryon leaned closer, whispering in an almost conspiratorial tone. “Some of the passages actually suggest that the first two books were fakes—not prophesy at all, but, instead, dictated by two beings who wanted us to believe they were gods.”
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Saje Williams
Leaving that intriguing bit of information hanging in the air, Bryon turned and climbed back onto the ladder. “Something to think about,” he said. “Goodnight, Raven.”
Raven leaned back and stared up at the stars, considering. He was beginning to see in this whole thing a familiar theme manifesting itself.
The immortals on his own Earth had also once pretended to be gods. It wasn’t inconceivable that two of them had found a home here and set themselves up a nice little racket by manipulating the locals.
Of course, that begged the question—what was his role in all of this?
And despite his statements to the contrary, he knew full well that some mortals possessed precognitive abilities. One thing was certain—this wasn’t something he could chew on himself and expect to figure out. Nor was talking to the dog going to do him any good. He needed to break down and discuss his suspicions with Val.
He gave Cerberus a final scritch and sought her out in her cabin.
She looked particularly alluring in her thin nightgown, he decided, as she opened the door to her cabin and let him in, rubbing sleep from her eyes. Her blonde hair was a muddled mass spilling over her shoulders, and her pale face pink on one side from where it had been pressed against her pillow.
Even so, her sharp prettiness was like a hammer blow to his sensibilities. “It is done,” he told her.
She nodded sleepily, then, as she came more to her senses, turned a questioning gaze on him. “What did you do with them?”
“I’ve put them somewhere safe,” he replied. “We can figure out what to do with them later.”
She didn’t look particularly pleased with this answer—she’d obviously expected him to destroy them outright, since sending them back to Starhaven wasn’t currently feasible. He watched as she crossed the small cabin to the trunk in one corner, lifting the lid and popping something into her mouth. He smiled, realizing what it had been.
78
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Sword and
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