The Mad Voyage of Prince Malock by Timothy L. Cerepaka Page A

pronouncing my
real name. Therefore, I had to use the closest translation I could
find, which unfortunately makes me sound like my
less-than-intelligent younger brother. It is inconvenient, but I
blame that on you mortals and your stupid language.”
    Malock tried to recall the entire Northern Isles
pantheon, which was difficult because there were so many deities in
it. “I don't remember there being a god like you. Are you a minor
god?”
    The Loner God slapped Malock again and said, “I'm
not minor. Gods aren't minor. You're lucky I didn't rip your head
off for that remark.”
    His head spinning, Malock decided to be more careful
about what he said to this deity. “I still don't remember you in
any of the pantheon lists, though.”
    “That's because I shun the worship and attention of
mortals,” said the Loner God. “Unlike my northern siblings, whose
fragile egos require that they receive constant praise and
adoration from you cattle nearly every day. Frankly, it astounds me
that they haven't started farming you for food. Your mortals are so
delicious, despite being as dull as rocks and far less useful.”
    “But all gods have cults and religions,” Malock
said. “Sure, some cults are small and obscure, but all gods are
worshiped by mortals and all gods want to be worshiped. My parents
always taught me that the gods needed our praise, love, and
respect.”
    “Your parents sound like a couple of pathetic little
mortals who are trying not to invoke the wrath of my northern
siblings,” said the Loner God with a snort. “Hearing that just
makes me all the more grateful for my decision to stay in the south
with my other brothers and sisters.”
    “You mean ... there are more of you southern gods?”
said Malock with a gulp.
    The Loner God flashed his wooden teeth and said,
“Yep. At least as many as our northern siblings. And, like me, they
all see mortals as useful only for a good meal.”
    Until now, Malock hadn't realized just how much he
had not feared the southern seas. Before, he had supposed that he
and his crew would only have to fight bad weather and perhaps a few
hungry sea monsters. But if the Loner God was telling the truth,
then there was an entire pantheon of deities that had no problem
with killing and eating mortals, human and aquarian alike.
    The Loner God must have sensed his fear because he
said, “Until today, you didn't really think you and your crew on
that pathetic raft you call a ship were in any real danger. The
arrogance and ignorance of mortals astounds me, almost as much as
my northern siblings demanding your praise and worship.
Almost.”
    Malock quickly realized he had little time before
the Loner God decided to dig in, so to stall, he asked, “I don't
understand. Up north, we know nothing about you southern gods.
Until today, I had no idea you or your siblings even existed. Why
have we not known about you?”
    The Loner God took a bite out of the femur, crunched
on it thoughtfully for a second, and then swallowed and said, “I
imagine my northern siblings wanted to keep your mortals safe. I
imagine they believed that you mortals would live in perpetual fear
if you knew that we southern gods existed. Or perhaps they are
afraid you mortals would demand that they fight us for your own
safety. Of course, it is equally possible they may see we southern
gods as a threat to their worship and so keep you mortals in
ignorance so you think they are the only deities in this world.
There are myriad reasons why they may have kept you ignorant and I
don't care about any of them.”
    “I see,” said Malock. “But when did this happen? Why
do some of you gods stay in the north and some in the south? I bet
it's a fascinating story, no doubt spellbinding, especially coming
from the mouth of a god as powerful and respectable as you.”
    “Flattery will get you nowhere among us southern
gods, mortal,” said the Loner God. “But I suppose I could tell you.
I'm still digesting your men, so I