can't say.”
The dwarf twisted the haft of his weapon, worrying the blade of the axe a bit further into the earth. “An' how much long'r ya gonna keep Brea in th' dark 'bout all this? Ya know, she's prov'd 'erself. She's loyal.”
Nathaniel ground his teeth at this last. “You say she is. I'm not sure what she is.”
“She's loyal,” repeated the dwarf. “Why she's loyal, well, tha's up fer guessin', but she is , an' tha's really all tha' matt'rs a' the moment, dontcha t'ink?”
Nathaniel was silent a moment before responding. “The Gods have been gone a long while, too. Haven't seen any of them since Levitz. Haven't seen any of the Old Gods since before that. I don't like that. And I don't like that there's so much we don't know. About the new sword. About why Brea's still here. Or what Avery is up to. None of it.”
“Well, ya know wha' I sed we shoul' do 'bout the brat,” said Bracken. “Find 'im, broil 'im and be done wit' 'im. Simples' solution's of'en the best.”
“Avery's a wildcard, I won't deny that,” rebuffed Nathaniel. “But he didn't have to give me Two. He's not the enemy we thought he was. He's in it for himself, no doubt. But is that enough of a reason to kill him?”
“You sed the Ol' Gods told ya to gat'er all the swords. Avery's got one, so's if'n yer gonna do wha' they want, sooner 'r later, yer gonna hafta take 'is sword, too.”
“I don't work for the Old Gods,” growled Nathaniel. “I'm only going along with them until we find Geoffrey. After that, they can all hang in the wind for all I care.”
“An' Mari? Wha' 'bout their promise ta bring 'er back?”
A great look of sadness enveloped Nathaniel's heart. “My wife is gone, Bracken. Now more than ever. She's been turned into some kind of totem by the Old Gods, and that means she's never going to be my wife ever again. I know that now, and I'm ready to put her behind me.”
Bracken guffawed. “You no more'n believe tha' than I do,” bellowed the dwarf. “If'n tha' were true, you'd no' still be pushin' Brea 'way.”
“Brea is not my wife!”
“No, bu' ya gots feelin's fer her, and she fer you. No doubt 'bout tha'.”
“That's not real.”
“Says who?” The dwarf's brows knit together. “Jus' 'cause magic made ya see i', don't mean i's any less real.”
“Magic didn't make me see it,” amended Nathaniel. “Magic made it happen. Which means once the magic fades, so will the feelings.”
“Really?” laughed Bracken. “Been close ta half a year since i' happen'd. When's it gonna go 'way then?”
“It's not right, Bracken,” said Nathaniel softly. “I don't love Brea. I love Mariabelle.”
“Ya sed yerself - Mari's gone. Brea's 'ere. Ya gotta move on. Or yer ne'er gonna be able ta be a man e'er 'gain. An if'n we do fin' Geoffrey, ya won' e'en be able ta be a fat'er, 'cause ya won't be able ta feel yer love fer yer son while ya block out the rest o' yer feelin's. All ta spite Brea.”
“No, to spite the swords!” Nathaniel turned roughly on his friend, closing the distance between them. “It's not Brea who made me feel this way, it's the damned Old Gods and their swords! I just have to get ahold of whatever sword that man held in our camp that day, and I can undo this!”
“A swor' tha's no' real? Tha' doesn' exist? One ya canno' feel 'r sense? How long 'til ya ge' a feel fer i', then? An' how long ya gonna wai'?”
Nathaniel was about to respond when suddenly his mind reeled. The vagueness was gone, slamming all of his senses with the profound impact of his Avatar abilities. The Old Gods had given him the ability to sense the swords. Like a lodestone, he was drawn to their existence, but more, he could at times see through the swords as though he were contained within the steel of their forms. This feeling was not entirely that - he still saw himself precisely where his physical body was -
The dwarf twisted the haft of his weapon, worrying the blade of the axe a bit further into the earth. “An' how much long'r ya gonna keep Brea in th' dark 'bout all this? Ya know, she's prov'd 'erself. She's loyal.”
Nathaniel ground his teeth at this last. “You say she is. I'm not sure what she is.”
“She's loyal,” repeated the dwarf. “Why she's loyal, well, tha's up fer guessin', but she is , an' tha's really all tha' matt'rs a' the moment, dontcha t'ink?”
Nathaniel was silent a moment before responding. “The Gods have been gone a long while, too. Haven't seen any of them since Levitz. Haven't seen any of the Old Gods since before that. I don't like that. And I don't like that there's so much we don't know. About the new sword. About why Brea's still here. Or what Avery is up to. None of it.”
“Well, ya know wha' I sed we shoul' do 'bout the brat,” said Bracken. “Find 'im, broil 'im and be done wit' 'im. Simples' solution's of'en the best.”
“Avery's a wildcard, I won't deny that,” rebuffed Nathaniel. “But he didn't have to give me Two. He's not the enemy we thought he was. He's in it for himself, no doubt. But is that enough of a reason to kill him?”
“You sed the Ol' Gods told ya to gat'er all the swords. Avery's got one, so's if'n yer gonna do wha' they want, sooner 'r later, yer gonna hafta take 'is sword, too.”
“I don't work for the Old Gods,” growled Nathaniel. “I'm only going along with them until we find Geoffrey. After that, they can all hang in the wind for all I care.”
“An' Mari? Wha' 'bout their promise ta bring 'er back?”
A great look of sadness enveloped Nathaniel's heart. “My wife is gone, Bracken. Now more than ever. She's been turned into some kind of totem by the Old Gods, and that means she's never going to be my wife ever again. I know that now, and I'm ready to put her behind me.”
Bracken guffawed. “You no more'n believe tha' than I do,” bellowed the dwarf. “If'n tha' were true, you'd no' still be pushin' Brea 'way.”
“Brea is not my wife!”
“No, bu' ya gots feelin's fer her, and she fer you. No doubt 'bout tha'.”
“That's not real.”
“Says who?” The dwarf's brows knit together. “Jus' 'cause magic made ya see i', don't mean i's any less real.”
“Magic didn't make me see it,” amended Nathaniel. “Magic made it happen. Which means once the magic fades, so will the feelings.”
“Really?” laughed Bracken. “Been close ta half a year since i' happen'd. When's it gonna go 'way then?”
“It's not right, Bracken,” said Nathaniel softly. “I don't love Brea. I love Mariabelle.”
“Ya sed yerself - Mari's gone. Brea's 'ere. Ya gotta move on. Or yer ne'er gonna be able ta be a man e'er 'gain. An if'n we do fin' Geoffrey, ya won' e'en be able ta be a fat'er, 'cause ya won't be able ta feel yer love fer yer son while ya block out the rest o' yer feelin's. All ta spite Brea.”
“No, to spite the swords!” Nathaniel turned roughly on his friend, closing the distance between them. “It's not Brea who made me feel this way, it's the damned Old Gods and their swords! I just have to get ahold of whatever sword that man held in our camp that day, and I can undo this!”
“A swor' tha's no' real? Tha' doesn' exist? One ya canno' feel 'r sense? How long 'til ya ge' a feel fer i', then? An' how long ya gonna wai'?”
Nathaniel was about to respond when suddenly his mind reeled. The vagueness was gone, slamming all of his senses with the profound impact of his Avatar abilities. The Old Gods had given him the ability to sense the swords. Like a lodestone, he was drawn to their existence, but more, he could at times see through the swords as though he were contained within the steel of their forms. This feeling was not entirely that - he still saw himself precisely where his physical body was -
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