Margaret Weis - Amber and Blood

“And that is also true.” Majere looked at Mishakal, and he smiled a rare smile.

“Mina’s story begins in the Age of Starbirth with the creation of the world. At that time—the first and last and only time in the history of the world—all of us came together to use our power to create a wonder and a marvel—this world.”

The other gods were silent, remembering.

“In that one single moment of creation, we watched Reorx take hold of Chaos and forge out of it a great globe, separating the light from the darkness, the land from the sea, the heavens from the earth and in that moment we were one. We all of us knew joy. That moment of creation gave birth to a being—a child of light.”

“We knew nothing of this!” Sargonnas growled, astonished and angered.

“Only three of us knew,” said Majere. “Paladine, his consort, Mishakal, and myself. The girl appeared in our midst, a radiant being, more beautiful than the stars.”

“You should have informed me at least,” Gilean said, frowning at Mishakal.

She smiled sadly. “There was no need to tell anyone. We knew what we had to do. The Gods of Darkness would have never permitted this new, young god of light to exist, for she would have upset the balance. Just the knowledge that she had been born would have caused an uproar, threatened to destroy what we had so lovingly created.”

“True,” said Zeboim coldly. “Very true. I would have strangled the whelp.”

“Paladine and Mishakal gave the child-god into my hands,” Majere continued. “They bid me cast her into a deep sleep and then hide her away, so that she might never be found.”

“How could you bear to lose her?” asked gentle Chislev, Goddess of Nature, shuddering. Her aspect was that of a young woman, lovely and delicate, with the soft eyes of the fawn and the sharp claws of the tiger.

“Our sorrow was deep as the vastness of time,” Mishakal admitted, “but we had no choice.”

“I took the child,” Majere resumed his tale, “and I carried her into the sea. I carried her to the depths of the ocean, to those parts that have never known the sunlight, and there I kissed her and rocked her gently to sleep. And there I left her, sweetly slumbering, with never a dream to disturb her rest. And there she would have remained at peace until time’s end, but Takhisis, Queen of All Colors and of None, stole away the world and with it—the child.”

“And Takhisis found her,” said Reorx. “But how, if she was hidden as you claim, Majere?”

“When Takhisis stole the world, she thought smugly that she was the only god-force in this part of the universe. I do not know for certain how she came to learn of the child’s existence, but I think I can hazard a guess based on my knowledge of the Dark Queen. When she first stole the world, she was left dangerously weak. She hid herself away, biding her time, restoring her strength, making her plans. And when she was well-rested and strong again, she left her hiding place. She came out warily, cautiously, probing and feeling about her to make certain she was alone in this part of the universe.”

“And she found out she was not,” said Morgion, God of Disease, with an unpleasant smile.

Majere nodded. “She felt the force of another god. I can only imagine her shock, her fury. She could not rest until she had found this god and determined what sort of threat the god posed to her. Since god-force within the child shone like a beacon, I doubt if Takhisis had much difficulty in her search. She found the god, and she must have been astonished.

“For she did not find another god who would challenge her. She found a child-god, innocent, unknowing, a god of light. And that gave her an idea…”

“Stupid bitch!” Chemosh swore bitterly. “Stupid, stupid woman! She should have foreseen what would happen!”

“Bah!” said Sargonnas. “The Dark Queen was never one to look past her own snout. She would have seen only that this child-god could be of use to her. She would keep Mina under her thumb and use her for her own ends.”

“And avenge herself one last time on the gods she had always hated,” said Kiri-Jolith, God of Just War. His aspect was that of a knight clad in shining silver armor.

“Takhisis very nearly succeeded,” Majere admitted. “She made one mistake and that grew out of her cruel desire for revenge. She decided to give this child-god to her enemy, to the mortal woman Takhisis had always blamed for her downfall during the War of the Lance—Gold-moon. The Dark Queen caused the child-god to be cast up on the shores of the Citadel of Light.

“Formerly a cleric of Mishakal, Goldmoon had brought the healing power of mysticism to Krynn. Now an old woman, she took the child-god, who had the aspect of a nine-year-old girl, to her heart. Goldmoon named her Mina. And Takhisis laughed.

“As Takhisis knew she would, Goldmoon taught Mina about the old gods, for Goldmoon grieved for the loss of the gods. Takhisis came to Mina, who loved Goldmoon dearly, and told her that she would give her the power to seek out the gods and restore them to the world. We all know what happened after that. Mina ran away from Goldmoon and ‘found’ Takhisis, who was waiting for her. What terrible tortures and torment Mina suffered at the hands of the Dark Queen—all in the name of ‘proving her loyalty’—I dare not speculate.

“When Mina was finally returned to the world, she had been shaped and molded in the image of the Dark Queen. Takhisis expected Mina to win victories in her name. All the miracles Mina performed she would think came from Takhisis. Too late, Takhisis realized her mistake. She saw her folly. As do others who tried the same.”

The other gods all looked accusingly at Chemosh.

“I did not know she was a god!” the Lord of Bones cried savagely. “Takhisis knew. Witness her final words: ‘The curse is among you. Destroy me and you destroy yourselves.’”

“Destroy us!” Sargonnas’ laughter boomed raucously through the heavens. “How does a chit of a girl-god pose a threat to us?”

“How does she not?” Mishakal asked sharply. The White Lady flamed, her beauty and her power daunting. “Even now, you are scheming how to win Mina to your side, to shift the balance in your favor.”

“And what about you, Mistress Sanctimonious?” Zeboim flared. “You are thinking the very same thing.”

Kiri-Jolith said coldly, “This god is lost to us. She is now a creature of darkness.”

Mishakal cast him a sorrowful glance. “There is such a thing as forgiveness . . . redemption.”

Kiri-Jolith looked stern and unrelenting. He said nothing, but he shook his head decisively.

“If she is so dangerous, what is to be done about her?” asked Chislev.

The gods looked to Gilean for judgment.

“She has free will,” he determined at last. “Her fate is in her own hands. She must decide on her destiny herself. She will be given time to think and consider. And during this time,” he added with cold emphasis, “she is not to be influenced by either Darkness or Light.”

Which wise judgment, of course, pleased no one.

The gods began talking at once. Kiri-Jolith insisted Mina should be banished as Takhisis had been banished. Zeboim protested that this was not fair to the poor child. She offered to take her to her home beneath the sea, an offer no one trusted. She urged Chemosh to support her, but he refused.

He wanted nothing more to do with Mina. Chemosh was sorry he’d ever seen her, sorry he’d fallen in love with her and taken her as his lover, sorry he’d used her to help him create new followers, the undead Beloved, who had been a sad disappointment, ending up being loyal to Mina, not to him. He held himself disdainfully aloof from the argument raging among the pantheon. Thus he was the only one who noticed the three gods of magic, who had heretofore kept silent, now conferring in low voices among themselves.